


From the Beginning

by Hopeless_Romantic93



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Injury Recovery, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sick Fíli, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeless_Romantic93/pseuds/Hopeless_Romantic93
Summary: Dwarves are romantic creatures at heart, believing that each one of them is created with a soulmate in mind, waiting for them somewhere in the world. Fili, 82, and Sigrid, 19, have an instant connection from the very beginning. Could she be the one he's been waiting for?
Relationships: Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 35





	1. Well Hello There

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched the Hobbit again and did not realize just how much I shipped this pairing! I didn't see any works from the very beginning, focusing mostly on these two, so I decided to throw something together.
> 
> It is currently rated as Explicit and I promise you'll start seeing elements of that very soon, both for violence and for that eventual smut!
> 
> I do not claim ownership of these characters or the world, all rights belong to Saul Zaentz Company.

Sigrid stood in her home, looking out the small window towards the mountains of Erebor, as she washed the dishes. It was another gloomy, rainy day in Laketown and honestly, she preferred it this way. She loved hearing the sound of rain on the rooftops, watching the water below her ripple and splash with each rain drop that fell. It lent a sort of reassuring and cozy air to her home that she always felt most comfortable in. Looking around her home, she knew that it wasn’t anything special. The walls were a dark wood, with worn in floorboards that spoke of years of use. The herbs she had hanging from the ceiling in their kitchen were drying and the smell of sage and thyme had become a comfort to her throughout the years. 

She turned back to the window, once again looking far away and she couldn’t help but stare. The rain was a great comfort to her, but let it not be said that it did not lend an air of wonderment to the already mysterious mountain that she could catch glimpses of through the fog.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her younger sister, Tilda, trying to help fold laundry. She went back to washing the dishes as she watched her attempt to fold their sheets. Hearing the frustrated huffs and low murmuring, she couldn’t help but give an indulgent smile at her behavior. “Are you letting those sheets win, Til?” 

An annoyed huff was her answer, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at her sister’s expense. She was only eight years old and incredibly small for her age, but she was so eager to learn, to help. These sheets were much too large for her to successfully handle on her own, but she wanted to contribute to the family and Sigrid wasn’t about to take that away from her. They both needed the distraction of work right now anyways, her Da hadn’t returned home yet and she was beginning to worry. She knew he was going to pick up barrels from the Mirkwood Elves, but he was never gone this long. 

She finished the dishes just in time to hear a victorious yell from her sister, who it seemed was able to get the sheets folded by herself after all. She gave her a cheeky grin, hoping the mischief she was about to get up to was coming across clear.

“I don’t know what we would do without you, Til. You have been such a huge help since your last growth spurt. I have all this time on my hands now! What do you think I should do with it?” 

She continued slowly walking around the table in the middle of the room, coming closer and closer to her sister as she spoke. Her sister knew her game though and gave a sassy smile right back at her, “I’m not sure, Sig. Perhaps you should ask the tailor’s son?” At that, Sigrid pounced and began tickling her sister for all she was worth. Tilda shrieked, trying to protect her stomach and under arms as best she could, but they both knew it was no use. 

“Oh, you are cruel to tease me about that foolish man!” She kept going for another minute before finally stopping and hugging her tightly to her chest. “I tell you in confidence that he tries to kiss me and now I never hear the end of it. I don’t know why I bother telling you anything anymore.” 

Her sister twisted in her arms to hug her back, squeezing as hard she could, “because you would be terribly bored without someone to talk to. I’m a great listener!” She just laughed at her sister’s antics, “you’re also a great yapper! I suppose I would be pretty bored without you to talk to though.” 

Her sister took the opportunity to tickle her back when she wasn’t expecting it and Sigrid let out a shriek of her own followed by a fit of laughter. As she was about to toss out a retort, they were startled apart by the front door crashing open, her Da standing in the doorway with her brother, Bain. Both looked ready to do battle and she couldn’t help but be concerned about what kept him.

“Da,” Both girls shouted, “we were getting so worried about you!” They hurried over to give their father a hug. “Where have you been?” 

He hugged them both back, taking a girl under each arm, and she could feel the stress slowly ease away. “I’m fine little ones, all is well, but I believe you just took a few years off my life with all that banshee-like shrieking.” 

She and her sister laughed as he turned to her brother, seeming to tense back up, “Bain, let them in.” 

She watched as Bain went below stairs to their deck and toilet, wondering who her Da was talking about. Following him over to the railing, she looked down and was surprised to see what looked like… Dwarves. Coming out of their toilet. She watched as one after another climbed up and out of the water, a seemingly endless line of them. 

“Da, why are there Dwarves coming out of our toilet?” 

Just as she had spoken, a golden-haired Dwarf began climbing up and his head snapped in her direction and for all the gold in Erebor, she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Obviously, the absurdity of it all was hard to turn away from, but his eyes captured her with a look that she wasn’t familiar with in the least. It was one that spoke of hunger and yearning. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she felt herself beginning to get hot all over and her stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. The feeling grew progressively more intense as he climbed out completely and stood at his full height. He was much taller than she had imagined he would be, and with a build that spoke of years of hard work and physically demanding labor.

Her sister ran to her side, incredibly excited about what was currently happening in their home, “Will they bring us luck?”

She watched as the golden-haired Dwarf fixed his gaze on her, a smile forming quickly, “Oh, aye lass, we only bring the best of luck.”

* * *

Fíli couldn’t believe the image standing before him. He had been climbing out of a damn toilet when he heard a voice as beautiful as a finely tuned harp. He whipped his head up only to find the most perfect vision of heavenly beauty he’d witnessed in his life. A bewitching lass with brown hair that glowed golden in the light. With eyes as dark as the Earth, full of warmth, and steadying him when his world was anything but. A complexion so fair that it reminded him of the flawless light from the stars at midnight. _It's her._

He felt himself continue to climb from the frigid water, but he was no longer in control of his body, just needing to get closer to this siren that called to him from his sea of crushing responsibility and worry. He continued walking towards her, not able to look away, when he heard the unmistakable voice of a young bairn full of innocence and curiosity.  
“Will they bring us luck?” 

He couldn’t help the smile that quickly spread over his face. Luck? He finally felt like Lady Luck was smiling on him directly, offering him what his deepest desires craved. “Oh, aye lass, we only bring the best of luck.” 

He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw, what could only be, a blush on this young vixen. _She feels it too, she knows she’ll be mine._ His smile still in place, he headed towards the stairs to make his way up toward his lady, when he felt a push from behind and suddenly, he met the wall with his face. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips, both from the pain in his head and from how unbelievably embarrassed he was. He turned around, glare now in place of his former smile, when he heard the unmistakable laugh coming from Gloin. 

“Oi, I needed that! Oh, Crown Prince, please tell me you realize you were flirting with that wee lass as you were climbing from her privy. Not to mention,” his smile was nothing but impish, “you ran straight into the wall. Personally, I’ve seen smoother.”

Fíli could only stare as he considered all that his friend had just said. He had indeed just flirted, with who he could only predict was his destined one, while climbing from her privy. His ears burned from embarrassment, but then focused on the second part of what was said. _Walked into that wall, did I?_

He looked up towards the railing and when he didn’t see the woman who was going to steal his heart, he didn’t fight the burning need to punch the older Dwarf right in his smug smile. He launched himself, going on the attack, when he felt thick arms around his waist, hauling him back. Knowing only one Dwarf who had arms that thick, he didn’t resist. Nobody got out of Dwalin’s grip. 

“Calm down now lad, I’m positive the lass didn’t even notice. Much. Hardly at all, I’m sure.” The sentiment would have calmed him down if it weren’t for the obvious attempt to hide his laughter.

_Perfect._


	2. A Little Further Under

Fíli shook free from Dwalin as he headed up the stairs with his brother, Kíli. He tried to get his mind back in the right place, focusing on their quest, when he noticed that his brother was once again trying to hide his limp. “Kíli, we need to get a better look at your leg.”

He spoke quietly, not wanting to draw attention to them. Kíli always tended to clam up when others paid attention to him when something important was going on. _Idiot._

His brother wasn't having it though, obviously deciding that ignoring the issue would be better than addressing it, “I told you before that I was fine, it’s just a little sore. Stop hovering, it’s not a big deal. Now, instead, let’s talk about you and that lass over there. What a beauty. Question, you do realize you were still in the damn toilet when you started flirting… right?”

He knew his brother was trying to deflect from his own problem, but he couldn’t help but take the bait. He needed to talk to someone about it. He looked up to see the woman of his dreams passing out blankets and making sure that his kinfolk had something warm to eat and drink to chase the chill away. She was talking with Bilbo to see if anything was ailing him when she looked his way and made eye contact. She quickly looked away, but not before Fíli saw the blush creeping its way back into her complexion. He felt his heart start pounding away, as swift and hard as one of their Dwarven hammers, “she’s stunning, isn’t she?”

He looked over at his brother when he heard him laughing under his breath. “Brother, at this point, is there anything she could do that wouldn’t make you think that? _Look at the way she breathes the air, isn’t she magnificent?”_

Fíli punched his brother lightly in the shoulder, slightly annoyed. “First, that isn’t how I sound. Second… she does have this grace about her, which I’m sure applies to mundane tasks such as breathing.” 

“Excuse me, I just have this need to expel everything from my stomach, won’t take but a moment.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kíli leaned over and started making gagging noises. Reaching the end of his patience, and right when he was about to hit him for real, a concerned voice from directly in front of him stopped him in his seat, “Master Dwarf, are you alright?” 

He whipped his head around yet again and came face to face with the woman they were just discussing. _She’s right there. Just a foot away. Kíli, for the love of all that is holy, please don’t embarrass me._

Kíli turned back around just as fast, clearly not expecting anyone to notice or care of what they were discussing, “Yes! Thank you, I erm, I apologize. Just a bit of a sour stomach, nothing to concern yourself with. What, by chance, is your name if I might ask?” He spoke the last few words with so much charm that it practically oozed off of him and Fíli had to actively try and not look like he wanted to throttle his brother. 

She looked confused by his sudden behavior but if she thought anything was off, she didn’t comment on it. “My name is Sigrid, Master Dwarf. And what may I call you?” His brother looked positively smug, no doubt about to attempt to charm her and get under his skin. “Please, none of this ‘Master Dwarf’, you’ll make me feel old like the rest of these filthy Dwarves. My name is Kíli and this quiet charmer next to me is my brother, Fíli.” 

He was rooted to the spot, still burning with embarrassment after trying to flirt with her earlier, but the smile she gave them both was breathtaking. She looked at him directly with her perfect, white teeth accompanied with a breathy laugh. _She has dimples. Sweetheart, take me now._

Stuck in his own head he, naturally, didn’t say one word to her. She looked back towards his brother, seeming slightly disappointed at his lack of communication and he couldn’t help but feel like an arsehole. She handed them two blankets and turned around to grab the tea that she had made. She looked hesitantly at his brother, “Kíli, I noticed you walking with a bit of a limp and I was wondering if there was something ailing you? I do some mending and healing when it’s needed, I wouldn’t mind taking a look at your leg if you'd allow it?” 

His brother tensed up as everyone looked at him awaiting his answer, “Thank you, Sigrid but I am quite alright. Nothing but a scratch.” He turned away, obviously trying to ignore her now, but she wasn’t done. “Kíli, please, it looks like it is paining you quite a lot,” she tried making a joke to lighten his mood, “if you’re squeamish of needles or pain I promise I won’t let the others laugh too -.” 

_“I said, it’s nothing but a scratch woman!”_

Nobody was expecting Kíli's outburst, least of all Sigrid. Her arms went up as if to protect her face as she took a step back and Fíli’s stomach turned sour. Nobody reacted that way without reason. 

“Kíli! What is wrong with you?” He was furious with his brother, there was no reason to speak to her that way when she only wanted to help him. He turned to look at her again and watched as she lowered her hands while taking a step back towards the bastard of a Dwarf, her face turning hard as stone. “My mistake, Master Dwarf. If you’ll excuse me.” 

She quickly left the main room and took the stairs leading to the second level. Her head held high and her gait as confident as could be. He watched her leave, her sister right on her tail, glaring at Kíli like she would consider hurting him herself. _She’d make an excellent little Dwarf._

When he turned back around, he noticed that everyone in the room was glaring at his brother, ashamed that he would speak that way to a sweet young woman who was only trying to help, but Kíli looked away, ignoring them all. Fíli for the first time in his life, didn’t jump to his brother’s defense, for he was just as ashamed as the rest of them. When he was finally able to make eye contact with his brother, he said nothing. Just did his best to show how disappointed he was and got up and walked away. 

After Kíli's outburst, things died down inside the home. They were told to wait until nightfall to leave since the house was being watched and with Bard gone, they all wanted to get some rest before leaving to break into the armory. He tried to sleep, he really did, but when he heard feather light footsteps on the stairs, he kept his eyes closed and prayed it was Sigrid. The little girl was adorable, but he wanted to speak with her about what happened earlier and apologize for his brother’s behavior. He wished that he had spoken to her rather than just yell at his brother, apologized then and there for his stubborn and rude behavior. 

He felt a slight breeze as she walked past him, recognizing her scent anywhere, sage and fresh rainfall. When he was certain that everyone else remained asleep, he quietly got up and followed her down the stairs to the dock below. Luck must still be on his side as a rack had been set up to obscure the view of anyone down below, so he was able to speak to her plainly, out in the open. 

He reached the bottom step and couldn’t help but just watch her, hair down and blowing gently in the breeze. Sitting on the dock, head lifted to the sky as rain fell down around her. She looked like a dream, one that he never wanted to wake from. While he could have watched her for eternity, he didn’t want to startle her should she turn and see him. Clearing his throat, he made sure that he was still plenty far away from her in case she still had any remaining hesitations from earlier. She lowered her head and turned to face him abruptly, brown eyes warming him through. “I apologize, Sigrid. I did not wish to intrude, would you mind if I joined you?” 

He could tell she was skeptical of his reason for being down here with her, but he prayed to whoever was listening that she would not send him away. She appeared deep in thought, a crease showing on her forehead that he wanted to smooth his thumb over. Holding his breath, he waited for her decision. 

“You may join me if you’d like, Master Dwarf.” He appreciated that while her voice was quiet, it was sure and strong. Quickly making his way over to her, he went to sit near enough that he could make out her enticing scent, but not near enough to crowd her. 

He sat down on the deck and immediately a sense of comfort came over him. Her nearness calmed him, but just sitting, hearing the rainfall over the lake was mesmerizing. Taking a deep breath, he decided to address the main reason he came down. “I wanted to apologize earlier, for my brother’s behavior. He has never handled being coddled well and I’m afraid with us all around to observe his behavior, that is the reason he lashed out at you.” He took a pause, knowing that he needed to continue with what was more shaming, “I would also like to apologize for my own behavior. I should not have let him speak to you in such a manner. His behavior was deplorable, but my own lack of action in your defense is unacceptable. You owe us nothing, we have barged into your life, and yet you have been nothing but kind to us. Only wanting to help.” 

He knew his voice carried just how distressed he was over the interaction from earlier. He hoped for her forgiveness, but he could understand if she wanted nothing more to do with him. It was her turn to clear her throat and he continued waiting, bracing himself for whatever she had to say. “You needn’t apologize, Fíli. I’ve been working closely with my townsfolk for many years, healing them whenever they are in need of my help if it’s at all in my capabilities. Although, I will admit that I do still have much to learn. However, that includes sudden illnesses, cuts or infections from everyday life, or even when people get into a bit of a scrap. I’ve encountered many personalities that change drastically when they’re in need of help and I would bet that I have many more to face in the future.” 

She had begun to smile during her explanation and his relief must have been apparent, for her smile continued to get coyer the longer he stared. 

“Thank you for your understanding in the matter, I’m sure my brother will make his own apology to you quite soon. The matter is though, that I cannot abide my own behavior. You deserved no less than someone coming to your defense, standing in between you and hostility.” He could feel himself getting angry again, but one look at her had his blood calming immediately. She understood what he was saying, but he knew there was more to it. Her entire expression had dimmed when he mentioned that he should have been in between her and hostility and he hated whatever had caused that. 

“You are too kind, but I have a feeling your brother would never have done anything though. More bark than bite, correct?” She had a sad smile now, “when you work with people often enough, you get good at reading the ones to be careful of. Their mannerisms, the way they look at you. You learn quickly. Your brother is a good man, just not used to being taken care of I take it?” 

He wanted to question her more, find out who had hurt her, but knew that he didn’t have any right to ask anything so personal of her. Instead, he continued with their conversation, “That man is stubborn for reasons that make no sense to me, let alone to anyone else.” He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh thinking of what his brother often got up to. He caught her smiling over what he’d said, looking back out at the water, when he decided to get an answer to a question that had been on his mind since she began handing out blankets.

“Sigrid, you don’t owe us anything and we’ve already established my brother is a bit of an arse, why do you go out of your way for us? I believe if your father had his way you and your sister would be holed up above stairs.” 

She let out an actual laugh this time, gusty and with actual mirth playing behind her eyes. “My Da would lock me and Tilda up if the choice were his to make. He knows though that we need to be a part of this world though, experience is what makes life worth living, no? Anyways, when my Mum was still alive, she taught me all about medicinals and herbs. She was so talented, the kindest woman you would ever meet, always willing to help anyone who needed it. Healing is in my blood, and I will do it until the day I die.” She took a breath as she continued on, “as for why I’m helping you and your people? Not all of you are injured, thank goodness for that, but it’s clear that whatever you are doing, it’s clearly important and you do need help. Be that blankets, something to eat, or medicine. You all are good people, if a little gruff around the edges.” 

He chuckled at her description of their company and couldn’t help but agree. He wanted to keep talking, to get to know her better, but she slowly got to her feet and he followed without thinking. She made her way towards the stairs, speaking softly again. “My Da is worried about something and I can only imagine it revolves around your company. I worry about my family, but I also worry about you all. I don’t know what is next on your journey, but please be careful.” 

She was looking right at him, making a plea for him to stay safe, and he felt himself falling just a little more under her spell. “Of course, whatever my lady wishes.” The blush that spread at his words was his reward. _Oh, sweet Sigrid, I will be back for you._


	3. A Couples First Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to have calmed down once the Dwarves depart for Erebor when all of a sudden Kíli is in dire need of healing and Orcs attack Laketown.

Sigrid slowly worked in the kitchen, tying together herbs to hang from the ceiling beams. She’d been moving around so sluggishly all day, knowing she hadn’t been the same since Dwarves climbed out of her toilet. Her mind was racing, but it always seemed to focus on one Dwarf in particular. _Is he safe?_

She wished that she had had more time with Fíli, their time together down on the dock had been so peaceful. Listening to his voice, as smooth as silk and sweet as honey, with a lilt from his accent that curled her toes, all while it had rained around them? She couldn’t remember a time when she had been more content. She had a hard time following his conversation, just wanting to close her eyes and curl into his side as he regaled her with his stories. She was sure he had quite a few to tell. She looked down, seeing that she had been binding together the same stalks of sage and now had nothing but a bundle of twine. Sighing, she began unraveling the mass of twine in front of her when the banging on their front door began. Her Da ran over, opened the door and she couldn’t believe her ears when she heard he was turning away Dwarves. 

“ – Nobody will help us. Kíli is sick, really sick.” 

She rushed forward, seeing Bofur, Oin, Fíli, and a very sick Kíli. “Hurry place him on the bench in the back. Tilda! I need you to put the sheets down on the bench and fetch some pillows. Hurry!” 

Her Da knew not to stop her, he knew that she would help as much as she could, would never turn them away. He stepped out of the way as the Dwarves made their way to the back, Tilda having just enough time to get the bench set up for Kíli. They set him down as gently as possible and she and Oin were finally able to take a look at his leg. She pulled back the piece of fabric over his thigh and gasped at what she saw. An arrow wound, with black and decaying skin all around it. The smell was putrid, and she knew this was no type of normal infection. “What is this?”

She looked at Fíli, needing answers. He watched his brother, the reality of the situation hitting him, “an Orc arrow.” 

She knew nothing of Orcs, knew nothing of this kind of wound, only hoping that she would be able to be of some help to Oin. “We need to bring his fever down; I’ve never seen this type of infection before. Master Oin?” 

“Aye lass, we’ll need some Athelas to bring his fever down. Have you any here?” 

Bard chimed in, “Athelas? It’s a weed, we feed it to the pigs.” 

Bofur perked up at that, “Pigs? Weed? Right.” He made to run out the door when he turned back and pointed to Kili, “don’t move.” 

Sigrid watched him run out, hoping he would return quickly but she knew that she couldn’t waste any time. She began gathering ingredients for a tea that would hopefully aid with his pain in the meantime, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off Fíli as she waited for the water to boil. She saw the hurt and panic in his eyes, wishing there was something else that she could do for him. As she walked over to him, unsure of what she would do, she heard a terrible noise that shook her to her core. She heard her father say something but couldn’t focus on his words. Only one stood out, _dragon._

She looked to Fíli, terror taking hold and she didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. His eyes found hers, worry clear in his features. He walked towards her Da, finally speaking, “You need to leave. Take your children and go.” 

His response chilled her to the bone, “Go where?” 

She heard her sister ask if they were going to die and she finally lost her composure, tears sliding down her face. Her Da grabbed the metal rod attached to their ceiling, revealing the black arrow from myth. Everything was a blur as she watched her Da and brother leave, going on their own quest to defeat a dragon. She stood still, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last few moments when she felt a hand grasp hers. She looked down, seeing Fíli weave their fingers together. His hand was warm and firm, a comfort that she didn’t realize she needed, grounding her in the present. 

She met his eyes with her own, tears slowly ebbing, “thank you.” It came out a whisper, but she knew that he had heard it when he began slowly rubbing circles onto the back of her hand. His eyes captured hers, as they were want to do, and she found that nothing else existed. Lost in eyes that could not decide if they wanted to be brown, green or gold. His golden hair captured the flickering candlelight, reminding her of a meadow, filled with wheat and gently blowing in the wind as the sun shone down. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to get to know everything about this Dwarf, she _desperately_ wanted to know if his beard was as soft as it looked or if it was course to the touch. She was feeling bold enough to take the risk, could feel her other hand inching up towards his face. 

Oh, Fíli knew what she wanted to do too. His stare had once again taken on that heated look, he wanted her to do it. She could almost think he was begging her to touch him. She saw her hand begin to rise towards his face when she heard a thump outside. She jumped, coming back to herself and her surroundings, noting just how close she was to caressing this Dwarf's handsome face. She pulled her hand back, giving a final squeeze to the hand she was holding, and tried not to notice his crestfallen look as he turned away. She couldn’t stand to see him hurt, especially from something that she did, and before she could think better of it, she grabbed him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His perfectly soft lips. _So that’s what kissing is like, I could get used to this._

She pulled back almost immediately though, not allowing herself to get too caught up in the moment. She knew there were people around, including her sister, and she couldn’t risk letting it go further. After seeing Fíli’s face though she was almost tempted, the smile he graced her with was beautiful. The stress almost appeared to vanish for the moment, and he looked years younger. She smiled back at him, feeling the blush spread through her face and chest yet again, almost wanting to roll her eyes at how absurd she was being. _You’re a grown woman Sigrid, you don’t have to blush every time he looks at you._

She heard another thump outside and remembered who they were waiting on. She squeezed his hand once more before quickly running to the door and throwing it open.

She was expecting to find Bofur on the other side however, she saw no one. She stepped out further, taking a look around to see if maybe she had missed something or if whoever had been there had decided to leave. Still not seeing anyone, she called out, “Bofur? Da?” 

The only response she received was another thump behind her. Quickly turning to face the source of the noise, she was stunned to find a beast crouched low, rising slowly with a sword covered in inky black liquid. The shriek left her mouth before she knew what was happening and ran back inside. She tried to shut the door, but the Orc had stuck his sword inside, preventing her from shutting it. The door was wrenched out of her grasp, her nightmare stepping through and thrusting the sword at her. She saw it coming, she tried to get out of the way, but she wasn’t fast enough. She felt white hot pain in her arm and she cried out again. She heard Fíli yelling her name and watched in horror as he launched himself at the Orc who had attacked her, armed with just one of her kitchen knives. He was able to stab it in the chest, effectively bringing the monster down, frantically looking around for her as the Orc collapsed. When he spotted her, he ran over, running his hands over her body to check for wounds. When he found the gash on her arm she cried out in pain and Fíli cursed. 

“Oh Sigrid, my beautiful Sigrid. I’m so sorry, are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Before she could answer, more Orcs swarmed her home, coming in through the door and breaking through the roof. She heard her sister scream and threw herself into the fray, needing to get to her. Before she could get far, Fíli grabbed her by the hand and pushed her under the table, blocking her in with one of the benches. As she was protesting and fighting to get back out, Fíli pushed Tilda into her arms. She knew the situation was drastic and it appeared he wasn’t above begging, “Please stay put, do not move from this spot!”

Before she could answer, he had left and went to defend his brother from an Orc who had just come down through the roof. As he was fighting, another came down behind him, lifting his arm as if time had slowed. _No, please no._ She screamed his name, looking around for a weapon when she saw a sword on the floor next to a fallen Orc. She pushed her sister down onto the floor, “Do not move from this spot, Til!”

She hurried out from under the table and grabbed the weapon as she ran over to Fíli. The sword was heavy in her hands, awkward to grab hold of, but she couldn’t stop herself, couldn't give herself time to overthink her actions. She didn't slow as she rushed forward towards the Orc, lifting the sword as high as she could, and used her momentum to stab it in the back. 

It was a sickening feeling, killing something. She could feel the bones give way underneath her palms, feel the sword pierce through flesh, the vibrations rattling up through the metal. She wanted to vomit, she wanted to curl up and sob at what she had done, but she didn’t regret it and she didn’t have that luxury. She saw Fíli turn as the Orc fell and knew that he watched her try to pry the sword out of its body. The look he gave her this time was one she recognized all too well; he was furious. 

He stepped forward and pulled the sword out without stopping, grabbing her hand as he fought their way back to the table. He pushed her underneath again, “I told you to stay put under the table with your sister, don’t go putting yourself in harms way!” He grabbed hold of her chin with one hand when she was safely under the table, forcing her eyes to meet his, “Not for anyone, Sigrid.” He kissed her, with much more ferocity than the kiss she had given him what felt like ages ago. He pulled away, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip as he did so. “Now please, stay put.” 

She watched him defend their position at the table, she and her sister safely underneath. She held Tilda as tightly as she could, trying to keep her sister’s body covered with her own should any Orc get close enough. She watched the battle taking place around her in her small home, watched the Dwarves fight like the warriors they were depicted as in her favorite tales. Fíli moved with such grace, each slash of his blade was confident, the candlelight making him look like a legend of old. The determination in his eyes was magnificent to behold, never stopping, he didn’t even look winded from the fight. _He’ll keep us safe._

She was mesmerized, watching him battle the largest Orc she had ever seen, when suddenly an arrow jutted from its neck. She shared in Fíli’s confusion, looking around to see who had fired the shot. She turned to look at the doorway just as the most beautiful woman with flaming red hair come through the door, wielding two daggers with a grace she could only ever dream of. Her gaze whipped to a flash of white that came down from the roof, amazed to see another lithe form, shooting arrows at Orcs with amazing accuracy and speed. _Elves. The Elves have come to aid us._ The relief she felt as she watched the Elves and Dwarves work perfectly together to decimate the Orcs was overwhelming, _we’re going to be okay._

As soon as she had that thought, Tilda was yanked down her body, a scream coming from her throat. The Orc that had previously been felled had somehow survived, was still struggling to wreak havoc and death upon whomever it could reach from the ground. _Over my dead body._

She grabbed onto Tilda with both hands as she slid onto her back, kicking the Orc as hard she could in the face and not letting up until it let go of her sister’s ankle. Even then, she didn’t stop. Found she couldn’t. She wanted it to suffer and she wanted to be the one to cause it. _You thought you could take her from me, you almost took him from me!_

Her revenge was cut short though when a sword was sunk into its neck and seeing the life leave its eyes was not nearly as rewarding as she thought it would be. As she wanted it to be. She just felt sick. 

She closed her eyes and cradled her sister to her, not wanting to let her go. She felt her crying, could feel her little body shaking. “Shh, it’s okay. It will all be okay. You were so brave, Til. I’m so proud of you.” 

She continued to stroke her hair, murmuring words of comfort for her sister’s sake as well as her own. She was startled when the bench was pulled out abruptly, immediately rolling her sister to the other side to keep her as safe as she could. She calmed down immediately when she saw the familiar face she was quickly coming to associate with safety and comfort. Fíli huddled under the table with them, hugging them both to his breast with a comforting strength, taking on the role of murmuring comforting nothings to them as they cried into his chest. When they calmed down, he began to search them both for injuries. When he found none on Tilda, he went to search Sigrid and saw her arm. The cut was indeed deep, would need to be cleaned and closed, but she could manage it. She told him as much, but he was upset, panicking over her safety.

“ _Why_ did you leave the table, what were you thinking Sigrid? You could have been _killed!_ ” He was cupping her face in his hands at this point, fretting over her, and she found she actually really loved it. It was nice to be coddled for a change. 

_But not too much._

She grabbed his hands from her face, squeezing them gently as she tried to get him to listen to her. “There was an Orc behind you that you didn’t see. I saw the sword by the table and there really wasn’t another choice, was there? I couldn’t let anything happen to you, especially if there was anything I could about it.” 

She had worked one of her hands into his hair at this point, needing more contact than grasping hands could provide. She was in shock from all that had happened and could feel herself begin to hyperventilate. He must have known what was happening because he brought his forehead to hers, cradling her neck with one hand. With his other hand, he brought Tilda back to his chest and rubbed her back as they all came down from the fight. She felt Fíli kiss her forehead and she felt the corners of her mouth begin to curl upwards. _He’s safe. We’re all safe._

They worked their way out from under the table, just to see the beautiful red-haired Elf standing near Kíli, looking crushed as she watched him writhe on the bench below her. She watched as the Elf began rubbing together the Athelas, speaking in a language that she didn’t understand but was nonetheless beautiful to hear. When Kíli began thrashing, she and Fíli ran forward to hold him down, Tilda right on their heels. The little girl put all her weight on one of his arms, determined to help him stay still while he was being healed. _I am so proud of her._

The process seemed to take ages, but she knew it could have only lasted a minute or two, when Kíli finally calmed down and the Elf took a step back looking drained. Sigrid moved back to the kitchen to give them space and took Tilda with her. She settled her on one of the benches and wrapped her in a blanket, settling down beside her and pulling her onto her lap. She kissed her forehead and began rocking her back and forth as she hummed. Just needing to have a moment of peace while she could. 

She could feel Tilda falling asleep and had never been so tempted to join her in slumber when she felt movement next to her. She didn’t need to look to know who had sat down, she felt the familiar warmth and grasp of Fíli’s hand in hers as he wove their fingers together again. She leaned into him and she felt his arm go around her back, pulling her into his side. Part of her wanted to question her sanity. She'd never really been interested in any of the men in Laketown and so, aside from the rare clumsy kiss throughout the years, she had remained chaste. And now this Dwarf made her feel like she had been waiting just for him. She thought back to the last kiss she'd received from the tailor’s son a few weeks ago. Her skin started to feel clammy, just thinking of what could have happened if she hadn’t been able to push him in the lake. For obvious reasons, she hadn’t told her sister all that had happened. Merely made it out to be a meager kiss, but oh how it could had been much more. She hadn’t encouraged him, hadn’t wanted his hands on her, but he would never make that mistake again. 

As if sensing her unease, Fíli’s arm tightened around her shoulder and she burrowed further into the comfort of his chest. _Yes, I could definitely get used to having this Dwarf around._


	4. Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Orc attack leading into Smaug's arrival, these poor people have so much going on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go, people! Not smut per say, but we're definitely starting to head in that direction.

Fíli watched as his brother spoke with the She-Elf. He knew that she was Kíli's one and he honestly couldn’t have been happier for him. She was a strong warrior, a healer, and clearly a kind woman. Maybe he had been judging her kind too harshly… Or not. _Let’s not get carried away._

He watched as his brother grabbed onto the her hand, briefly murmuring something that was too quiet for him to hear. Frankly though, he didn’t want to. It was between them and he hoped that she wouldn’t leave him, he knew that Kíli was more of a romantic than he was and wouldn’t survive it. Losing your destined one was not something that any Dwarf took lightly. _Thorin is going to lose his head when he realizes both Princes of Erebor lost their hearts to an Elf and a Daughter of Man._

He chuckled to himself, anticipating delivering that piece of news personally. 

When he saw that his brother had fallen asleep, he made his way over to the pair, wanting to speak with the woman who had saved their lives. He watched as she gently brushed her thumb over his brother’s cheek, pushing his hair back behind his ear. He hated to feel like he was intruding but knew this couldn’t wait.

“Excuse me, Tauriel, isn’t it?” She looked over to him slowly, clearly not wanting to take her eyes away from his brother lying on the bench. Making eye contact with him, she nodded in response. 

“I’m Fíli. I wanted to thank you, for healing my brother. We’ve been inseparable since his birth, and I honestly don’t know what I would do without him.” He looked down at his younger brother, feeling his eyes growing suspiciously wet. “He’s wild, reckless, incredibly stubborn, and suffers from a terrible sense of an inflated ego. But he is also the best man I’ve ever met. Loyal to a fault and always willing to help in any way he can.” 

He met her eyes, willing her to understand what he was saying. “I don’t know what is going on between you two, and you don’t have to explain it to me. But he would give you whatever you asked for in life, including his very own. We Dwarves don’t take love lightly. We get one. In our whole lives. If we’re lucky enough to find that person, it’s the stuff of legends. Those are the tales we grow up most wanting to hear.” He looked back towards Sigrid, watching how she comforted her sister. “We won’t trap them; it’s love that has to be given freely. But once we have it in our grasp, we tend to never let go.” 

When he glanced back at Tauriel he noticed that she had followed his stare, watching his kind-hearted lass hum to her sister. When she glanced down at him, she was wearing a small smile. “You’ve chosen well Dwarf. She’s lovely. While she may not be a warrior, she has the heart of one. She did well today.” 

He felt his chest swell with pride, “Aye, she’s made me proud. And she is lovelier than I could have ever hoped for.” He felt himself getting nervous as he thought about what he wanted to talk to her about, “I would like to speak with her, as alone as possible… would you mind in a minute or two coming over and offering to take the little one from her? If she wakes, I have a feeling you two will be inseparable, that one seems to crave adventure. I’ve heard every person who lives in this house claim she’s taken a few years off each of their lives.” 

He watched her give a dainty laugh, suited to an Elf. “She’s an adorable little girl, I’ll give you a moment with the two of them Fíli.”

He thanked her as he walked away, itching to get Sigrid in his arms. He approached the table and sat as close to her as physically possible, deciding at the last minute that they were past needing to keep space in between them. He grabbed her hand again, not wanting to presume too much now that the danger was passed, but when he felt her lean into him, he couldn’t help putting his arm around her, pulling them both in. 

Fíli cradled his two favorite humans to his chest, trying to get control of his breathing. He was still running high from battling Orcs and trying to keep his brother safe at the same time as Sigrid and her sister. He had been so focused on keeping that one Orc from getting near Kíli that he hadn’t noticed the one that had dropped down behind him. When he had felt something at his back, he had never expected to see an Orc falling forward, with Sigrid trying to pull a sword out of its back. He had been frozen for just a moment before his instincts came back in full force. _How could she have risked herself like that? I told her to stay under the table!_

He shook his head, trying not to get pulled back to that moment. Instead, he thought of when he had kissed her after getting her back to the table. His emotions were out of control, the heat of battle was coursing through his veins, and he had just needed to kiss her. Needed to feel her with every breath in his body. 

The quick press of her lips against his earlier had been so endearing, so perfect, because it fit who she was as a person. And the fact that she had taken it that far by herself? Chosen to bestow that gift upon him? He knew he had smiled like a fool afterwards, but he couldn’t have stopped if he'd tried, he was head over heels for her and proud of it. He had found his chosen lass and he’d be damned if anything would take her from him. But seeing the gash on her arm and realizing that something almost had, seeing her in the middle of battle, was something he couldn’t bear. 

The kiss he gave her afterwards was primal, possessive and, fierce but he needed her to know that he was staking his claim. So long as he had life left in his body, he would take care of her. Protect her. He hoped she had understood that, but in case she didn’t, he needed to tell her now. 

“How is the little one faring?” He whispered, in hopes to keep her asleep and not disturb her. 

She adjusted to fit his shoulder, whispering right back. “Physically she’s fine, but I have a feeling that this won’t be a night she’ll forget for quite some time.” He made a noise of understanding, knowing she was most likely correct. “She’s a strong child, brave in the face of danger. It might take some time, but she’ll get through it. A tenacious wee thing she is. I swear, she must have some bit of Dwarf in her blood.”

He got a laugh out of her with that and it made him feel great, knowing that he could bring a smile to her lips after facing what they had. He saw a flash of red as Tauriel made her way over. Sigrid glancing up as she stood before them.

“I’m sorry to only just now be introducing myself. My name is Tauriel, I wanted to come over and ask how you and your sister fared. Do either of you have any injuries?”

Sigrid smiled up at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Sigrid and let me officially welcome you to our happy home.” She gave a quiet laugh before becoming serious, “I can’t thank you enough for your help, you’re incredible by the way. I’ve never seen such grace during a fight. I’m not sure where your companion went, but I would wish to thank him as well. I don’t know what I would do without my sister or, well, uhm,” her face turned a bright red, clearly embarrassed by what she had almost said, “just thank you. For everything.” 

Tauriel gave her a knowing smile, “No thanks are necessary.” Her eyes suddenly focused on Sigrid’s arm, noticing the gash. “Sigrid, blades can be quite dirty, especially from these foul creatures, I’d hate for that to get infected. Can I please see to that?” 

Before she had a chance to answer, Fíli jumped in, “I can treat your arm Sigrid. Tauriel, would you mind watching over Tilda while I do it?” 

Tauriel gave a knowing nod in his direction and waited for permission from Sigrid before leaning down to scoop up the child in her arms. “Fíli, there’s a pack of herbs on the counter, make sure you add them to the water when you wash that out.” He nodded in understanding, watching her with the child. 

“She’s adorable, we’ll just be over in the back by Kíli if you need me.” As she began walking away, she looked back at Sigrid, “Have you noticed, Dwarves can be quite charming when they want to be?” Sigrid’s blush caused the She-Elf to laugh as she walked away with the child in her arms. Fíli got up as well, chuckling to himself as he found all the items he needed to treat her arm. 

Coming back, he straddled the bench and using his knife, he cut away the fabric concealing her injury, only to let out a sound of anguish as he finally took in the extent of the cut marring her perfection. “Oh Sigrid, I’m so sorry lass. This must hurt something terrible.” 

The gash itself was several inches long and deep enough that it would need to be sutured closed after being thoroughly cleaned. “It’s fine Fíli, it could have been much worse.” He agreed with her, but it didn’t mean he had to like it at all. 

With everything ready, she winced as he prodded the wound. He hated what had to come next, but it would only hurt to delay the inevitable. As an apology fell from his lips, he poured the liquid into it, trying to rid it of anything that might cause infection. He felt her entire body tense up and watched as she bit into her lower lip, hardly a sound escaping, as he saw silent tears falling down her beautiful face that was marred with pain. 

Each tear that fell caused his anguish for her to grow and he hated that he would have to be the one to treat her wound, but he couldn't allow another near her like this. He knew that cleaning it out stung something fierce, but that would be nothing compared to the bite of the needle. He wanted to finish treating her wound as soon as possible though and knowing that the faster he worked the quicker her suffering would end, he began stitching her up. He had never worked so efficiently in all his life, closing her wound as fast as he possibly could. By the time he had finished, her eyes were squeezed shut and her nails had dug into her palm so hard that they began to draw blood. 

She was still crying by the time he set everything aside and it broke his heart seeing her in pain. He drew his forehead to hers and couldn’t help the words that fell out of his mouth, knowing that everyone else in the room could hear them too. He told her everything that came to mind, just trying to bring her some comfort. She was impressive, she was beautiful, there was nothing she couldn’t handle. He wouldn’t refrain from telling her what was in his heart if she needed to hear it. 

“I swear Sweetheart, I’ll never let anything happen to you ever again.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, it seemed like everyone in the room had frozen, himself included. Sigrid opened her eyes, red from crying, a question within them that he wanted to answer with actions, not words. Knowing they had an audience though, he brought her knuckles to his mouth, kissing them lightly. When he pulled back, he was begging her to understand what it was he wanted. 

Her eyes became heated, turning as dark as the night sky, drawing him in yet again and leaving him wanting for more. Her lips parted slightly, just showing the very tip of her tongue coming out to lick her bottom lip. The groan that left him was one of yearning and desire, so deep he could feel it vibrating in his chest. There was nothing more he wanted than to capture her mouth, right then and there, and kiss her with all that he had to give. To explore her mouth and discover what sounds she made when she had nothing on her mind but lust, nothing she craved more than being filled by him. His tongue, his fingers. _His cock._ He would taste her whole body, introduce her to pleasure and help her find it. _Every. Single. Night._ Would she be loud or quiet when she reached her peak? Would she beg him to keep going or demand he not stop? The anticipation was going to haunt him, but he welcomed it, knowing she would be worth the wait. 

Her breath was coming faster, ghosting over him as she exhaled, and he couldn’t help the smile that came. _She does make breathing look so damn magnificent._

He kissed her forehead, lingering longer than he should, knowing he couldn’t look into her eyes again while she was looking at him like that. He’d be lost. _As if I'm not already._ “Soon, Sweetheart. I promise. Just wait for me.” 

He felt her nod against him and finally pulled away. He saw that she had closed her eyes and was trying to take deep breaths. He couldn’t help but feel satisfied, knowing that while his body was out of control around her, hers was just as bad. He squeezed her arm gently as he stood up from the bench. He knew they were on borrowed time. As much as he hated to think it, there was certainly a recently awoken dragon that would most likely be making his way down to this town very soon. He looked towards the back of the house, seeing Tauriel holding a conscious Tilda, sitting next to a very awake Kíli. They were smiling at each other, taking turns making the little girl laugh, and he noticed that they were once again holding hands. _Good._

As much as he hated to do it, he looked down at Sigrid. “You should probably ready a pack with some clothes. We’re going to be leaving very soon.” He saw she understood immediately, a slight nod in response to his request. She stood up on steady feet, placed her forehead against his, and walked up the stairs to get their things ready. He walked over towards his brother, thinking on how proud he was of his lass. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as he approached, his brother yelling out for him. “Fíli! Think this little Sprite has some Dwarf in her somewhere?” 

He laughed as he came over, “Oh, no doubt. I was thinking that she’d make a fine little Dwarf earlier today. You should have seen the glare she sent your way. Would have made even Dwalin wither.” 

Reminded of earlier, Tilda looked ready to unleash a righteous fury while Kíli had the good grace to look ashamed. Turning back towards the frightening little lady, Kíli visibly braced himself for her anger, “Speaking of earlier, Til, where has your pretty sister gone off to? I’d like to apologize to her for my earlier behavior. I acted like a right old ars-.”

He was cut off mid swear by a solid smack upside the head by Fíli’s hand. He gave his brother a look that asked what he thought he was doing cursing in front of the little one. His eyes widened in panic. 

“Ars... arsenine... Dwarf. An arsenine Dwarf. Darn us arsenine Dwarves! The world would be a whole lot better without us, wouldn’t you say?” 

He and Tauriel couldn’t help but give each other a look while rolling their eyes. Watching Tilda though was something to behold. He could tell she was holding onto her anger but didn’t know what asinine meant, and he was just about to help her out when she shouted, “Sigrid, do we like arsenine Dwarves?”

He looked over his shoulder to see Sigrid coming into the main room, wearing a different dress and her hair tied back, a pack in her arms. He went to join her, taking the pack from her, when she gave him a curious stare. “ _Arsenine?_ Does she mean asinine?” 

Fíli smiled at her bafflement, “you can thank my brother for his quick save so as not to curse in front of your sister.” 

At that she did laugh, walking over to her sister who immediately ran into her arms. She looked directly at Kíli, still smiling, “Til, there are worse things out there than foolish silly Dwarves.” 

He saw Kíli look back at her, shame still clear on his face, “Well this foolish, silly Dwarf would still like to apologize for his earlier behavior. I am sorry, Lady Sigrid.” 

She gave him a smile that he recognized as one that would be given to a petulant sibling. “I’ll have none of that ‘Lady Sigrid’ business here, Kíli. There’s no need to apologize. I imagine having that kind of injury would make even a better person turn into a cantankerous old hag, wouldn’t you say?” 

Kíli let out a surprised gasp, which turned into full belly laughter almost immediately. They started in on each other, witty retort being tossed this way and that, and Fíli knew they would be the best of friends. _I’m not so sure that’s a good thing._

For just a moment, all was right in their world. But it was as if the universe knew and decided that wouldn’t be acceptable. They all felt a rumble in the air and knew that the time had come, they needed to leave. Bofur and Oin came forward, assisting Kíli up and down the steps to the dock below. Tauriel kept Tilda’s hand in hers, pulling her along to the boat. He could hear Sigrid’s breathing pick up but there was nothing to do about it now. They were out of time. He grabbed her hand, kissed the palm and led her down behind the others. 

He watched as everyone climbed aboard, getting comfortable. Kili and Tauriel were in the front, Tilda sitting on her lap. Oin and Bofur took up the oars in the middle and that left Sigrid and Fíli in the back. He helped her climb in, laying his cloak over her to help with the chill, and as he stepped forward to join her, he heard yelling coming from inside the house. He ran to the stairs and saw Bain, Sigrid’s brother, yelling that Bard had been arrested and the black arrow had been hidden. 

He heard Sigrid trying to get out of the boat to get to her brother and he couldn’t have that. They needed to leave. As he was about to address him, he heard a noise, almost too quiet to pick up on. It sounded like the steady beating of a bird’s wings. As he listened, the beating became louder and louder, until he heard nothing at all and felt the wind stir around him. _Oh no, we are too late._

As soon as he had that thought, a bright orange light emanated from the sky, fire falling down all around them as screams seemed to erupt all at once. 

“Sigrid, stay in the boat! Come on lad, we need to get out of here. Tell us on the way.” He turned back to the boat when Bain began yelling again, “No! I’m not leaving without my Da. You cowards leave if you want but I’m staying to fight.” 

“Bain!” He heard Sigrid yelling from the boat, renewing her efforts to get to them. 

“Sigrid, it’ll all be alright, stay right there.” He turned back to the stubborn boy, quickly losing his patience but trying to make him see reason. “I understand wanting to stay and help your father, wanting to give everything you have in order to fight! But ask yourself, would your father want you to stay and risk your life, possibly even the lives of your sisters?” 

He knew he had struck a chord with the boy, who peered into the boat and watched his sisters. He could clearly see the internal battle he was having when he finally came to a decision, “No… he wouldn’t want that. You’re right.” 

He knew how hard it was to admit that, to tamp down the need to fight. “Come on lad, we have to get going! Let’s get into the boat and get your sisters out of here, aye?” He followed behind him as they ran to the boat, allowing him to climb in and sit next to his sister. She grabbed hold of him, hugging him fiercely, “Where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you! What happened with Da?” 

They began to row their way through the town, weaving in and out of alleyways lit with fire as Bain told his story. Not once did he let go of his sister, obviously upset and needing the type of comfort only a mother figure could provide. Fíli was enraged about what had happened to Bard and if he had been alone, he would have gone after him, but he wasn’t about to risk the lives of the man’s children in order to save his life. He knew Bard wouldn’t want him to. 

He was watching their surroundings, trying to ensure there were no other threats around, when he heard Sigrid yell out and the boat began to rock. “Bain, what are you doing? Come back! _Bain!”_

He watched in stunned silence as the boy jumped out of the boat and ran to retrieve the black arrow, holding it up. “You all need to keep going, you need to leave! Please, don’t stay. I need to help Da!” And with that, he turned on his heels and headed into a maze of burning buildings and charred corpses. 

“Bain come back! Don’t leave us!” He caught Sigrid around the waist as she tried to follow her brother. “Let me go, I need to bring him back!” 

He hauled her onto his lap, trapping her in his arms, “Sigrid, he’s gone. You wouldn’t catch him; we need to get you and your sister out of here.”

“No! I can bring him back! I can’t lose him!” His arms didn’t loosen as her struggling began to die down, quickly becoming exhausted by the day's events. He kept her firmly on his lap, even as she turned on him and started throwing her fists into his chest. The sobs started racking her body though as she continued to plead with him to let her go after her brother. He didn't try and stop her, knowing that she was distraught over what was going on, and just let her tire herself out. 

Eventually, she stopped fighting and clung to his shirt, burying her face in his neck. He cradled her into him, holding her tightly and rubbing her back. His heart broke for her, but he knew there was nothing he could say that would make this any better. As he watched fire fall around them, and listened to Smaug soar above, he did the only thing that he could. He held onto his lass and closed his eyes.


	5. Please Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid deals with the aftermath of Smaug's attack and Fíli announces that he is leaving for Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with writing this chapter, trying to imagine how Fíli's parting would go over with Sigrid, so I hope you like it!

Sigrid felt the sharp and uneven rocks beneath her shoes as she walked across the beach of Laketown. Every now and then her foot would stumble, exhaustion and the uneven terrain catching her off guard, and the occasional pebble could be heard skipping its way across the others. She had been walking since early morning. 

They had reached the shore hours ago and she had been in shock from all that had happened in the last few days. She was proud of herself for lasting as long as she had, but once Bain had fled their boat, the reality of their situation had set in and all the memories had come flooding back in. _She and Tilda had been attacked, she had killed an Orc, her father had been arrested, and a_ dragon _had destroyed her town._ Watching her younger brother run away from the closest thing they had to safety had been the final straw; she had erupted into sobs, tears and shrieks. 

Fíli had held her in his lap the entire time they had been in the water. He hadn’t said one word to her as she soaked his tunic with her weeping. He had just continued to rub her back and hold her tight as if he was all that kept her together, and she was grateful for it, because it was true. It had felt so good to finally let her guard down and let someone else be strong for _her._

Her head ached from her grief, from all the loss, and she didn’t know what to do anymore. She had spent the last few hours helping all those who had made it to shore, focusing on those who needed medical attention. Their group had been on the lookout for her family members as she worked, but there was nothing to report. Nobody had seen them, and she had finally taken some time to herself. Tilda was being watched over by Tauriel and she now found herself walking to keep her mind busy. She could feel her muscles begging to stop, her entire body was tense and sore from everything and she just needed to rest. She walked from the beach and up the embankment where she stopped at a fallen tree. 

As she sat down, she couldn’t help but look around as she forced herself to take in everything, sickened and horrified by what she saw. Glancing out over the lake, she saw what was left of her home. Ruins that were barely standing, still aglow from the dragon’s fire. Her neighbors, homeless and injured if they were lucky. The others, charred and unrecognizable corpses that now covered a grim and bleak rocky beach. The sounds of wailing, full of heartache and loss, surrounded her and as she watched from her spot on the log, she realized that her Da and Bain could be any of the faceless corpses that she had just walked past. 

The loss was something she felt intensely, but no more tears would come. She was tormented with anguish, felt lost in a world she thought she had understood so well, and she couldn’t shed anymore tears. She felt consumed, drained of everything that she had to offer, and she felt broken. _How much can one person take before it’s too much?_

She didn’t know the answer, but she was worried that she was quickly approaching that fine line between burdened and overwhelmed. Ever since her Mum had died, she had constantly been moving, constantly helping her family and those who needed her. She could handle the burdens of others. 

What she couldn’t handle though, was this all-encompassing tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away. With each breath she took, she felt herself being pulled under. A heavy hand across her throat, submerging her in the icy water that she had been comforted by all her life. With each wail in the distance, she felt it constricting tighter and tighter until each breath was labored, and she felt light headed.

_No! This will not win; this will not break me._

She stood up as she tore at the buttons near her throat, needing to feel the cold air against her skin. Her hands were shaking though, her fingers unsteady, and she couldn’t seem to manage the few buttons that held her captive. Frustrated, she pulled as hard she could and felt a rush of satisfaction as she heard fabric tear, the clinking of buttons hitting the rocks below. She could feel the pressure begin to lessen in her chest, the hand that had been caging her in slowly losing its tight grip over her. Taking deep breaths, she brought her hands up and tore the ribbon from her hair, letting her brown locks cascade down her back. She lifted her head to the sky as she had so many times before. She closed her eyes and let the breeze wash over her, bringing with it the smell of impending rainfall. She focused on the sound of the waves lapping at the shore, the sound of the gulls soaring overhead, and she could breathe once more. _I will not be broken._

She stood there for what could have been minutes or hours, she wasn’t sure, and for once she didn’t care. But when she opened her eyes, she saw Fíli standing just a few feet away, staring at her as if in wonder. He hadn’t come any closer, but she could swear that she could feel his eyes on her, watching her as if he was trying to remember every minute detail that he could. Her breathing had picked up again but for a completely different reason this time. She wasn’t broken, she would take care of her sister, help her town heal, and she would claim _this_ Dwarf as hers. She knew she wasn’t the only one who felt this attraction, this connection, between them. She watched as his pupils grew larger, engulfing the beautiful verdant amber that gazed back at her. 

“Fíli,” She didn’t know why her voice had suddenly become light and breathy or where her boldness was coming from, but she found she didn’t care as she beckoned him forward. She wanted him with a burning desire that she would no longer try to understand and control. She watched him start forward at the sound of his name, only whispering hers in response.

When he reached her, he didn’t slow down like she thought he would, instead he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up against his body. His hand snaked into the hair at the back of her neck, grabbed a tight handful, and he brought her mouth down to his in a show of passion that left her breathless. She pressed into his kiss as she worked her hands into his hair, just as he had done to her and the groan that left him only fueled her lust. She needed more, wanted to ask for more, but she didn’t know how. While her mind wasn’t sure what it was missing, her body certainly knew there was more to be had. She could feel moisture in between her thighs, and she pressed them together to try and assuage the throb that was building in her core, unable to contain a whimper as the frustration built. In response, he grabbed onto her hair with more pressure and she drew in a sharp breath as she felt him gently nip at her lower lip. As her lips parted, she felt him swallow her gasp and he gently touched his tongue to hers. Her body seemed to come alive at the contact and she let out a lust filled moan of her own as her tongue began to learn his taste as well. And _Dear Lord,_ did she love it. He tasted of coriander tea, barley and something that was undoubtedly just Fíli. She loved the pressure he kept in her hair as his other hand explored her waist just to come lower and tighten on her hip. She let her own hands explore his body, rubbing up and down his back and chest, admiring the way she felt his muscles work underneath her nimble fingers. _So perfectly built._

She was just wishing she could explore under his tunic when he broke the kiss, a gasp on his lips as he brought their heads together. “Oh Sigrid, Sweetheart, you taste of perfection. Just as I knew you would.” 

She tried catching her breath as she watched with immense satisfaction as he did the same. She kept her hands moving, going up and down his arms and chest, loving how he felt under his clothes. This was the first time she had ever been able to explore a man’s body and she was thrilled that it was his. She never wanted to stop. “I love the way you taste, Fíli. Why did you stop?”

She was quickly becoming addicted and went to kiss him again. She sighed as they came together, his firm mouth moving against hers, giving her exactly what she needed. When she licked his lower lip to deepen the kiss though she felt him groan and pull away again, bringing their heads back together. “Sigrid, please, we need to stop. So much has happened. You’re in shock. I promised I wouldn’t let anything else bad happen to you lass, and that includes protecting you from myself.” 

She tried clearing her lust filled mind, tried to listen to what he was saying, and deep down she knew he was making sense. She wouldn’t be acting like this if it was under normal circumstances. She felt her face beginning to heat and knew it was turning red, _because why wouldn’t it,_ and pulled back to look into his eyes. He must not have liked what he saw on her face because he immediately pulled her back in for another quick kiss. It was just a simple pressing together of their lips, but when he pulled away his eyes were burning with hunger once again. 

“None of that woman, I’ll not have you be embarrassed over what just happened. I loved every single second of what you just gave me, and I plan on further exploring what other sounds I can get you to make. But not now. I plan on wooing you the way you deserve. Gifts, horseback rides, picnics, serenades… I could think of a thousand other things that you would actually like more than that last one, but you get my meaning. I plan on having many more chances to steal a kiss or two from you.” He gave her a mischievous smile, “Maybe even a bit more.” 

She felt her blush deepen but the laugh that escaped her felt so good. Fíli had a habit of making her laugh and smile when she needed it most and she loved that about him. She turned her own playful smile on him, “I might just let you.”

She watched his face twist in what seemed like pain as he let out another groan, bringing his face to her neck. His voice was muffled when she heard a faint, _“Yer killin me woman.”_ She felt his lips begin to brush over her collarbone and she pushed him away with a breathy laugh, “None of that now, what happened to wooing me properly?” 

He grabbed her hand as they began their walk back to camp, “Oh Sigrid, don’t you know proper wooing includes me taking advantage of every opportunity to taste that luscious skin of yours?” 

She rolled her eyes while still chuckling at his blatant flirting, “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” 

He laughed with her, “Aye, my mother has told me often enough.”

In better spirits, they walked almost the rest of the way back in a companionable silence before Fíli spoke again. “Sigrid, I did need to tell you something.” 

She looked at him as he continued to lead them along the path back, “Now that Kíli is better, my kin is anxious to reach the mountain. They’re wanting to leave as soon as possible.” 

She stopped in her tracks, confused and hurt by his words. He refused to let go of her hand as she tried making sense of what he just told her, “You’re leaving... now?” 

She could see a frown under his facial hair, noticed he was visibly upset with the news, not liking it any more than she did, but he didn’t cower from her stare. He stood directly in front of her, holding both of her hands, stroking the backs with his thumbs like he had the night before. “Sigrid, please first hear me out. You know I would not leave if I could help it, but I don’t know how my kin fared up in the mountain and the others are anxious to go. _I am anxious to go._ ” He took a deep breath before continuing on, “I hate the thought of leaving you, but my kin need me. There are but fourteen of us and I vowed that I would help them reclaim our home. I cannot shirk my duty when so many are dependent on me to see it through. Please tell me you understand.” His voice became whisper soft and he stepped closer to her. “I could not bear it if we parted ways, no matter how short a time, if you were upset with me.”

She could only stare at him as she worked through what he had just told her, “You and your company showed up on our doorstep mere days ago asking for our help. You brought with you a horde of Orcs that attacked my family. You woke a dragon and unleashed it on our home, _killing_ my neighbors, _my_ people.” The tears that had refused to fall earlier were now streaming down her face as she backed away from him, “You profess to wanting me, you declare that you won't let anything else happen to me. And yet, you are leaving just hours after chaos and mayhem have erupted because of the deeds of _your_ people.”

She withdrew her hands from his, unable to bear his touch any longer. It all seemed a cruel joke to her, being shown who she wanted in this life, what she most wanted in the world, just to have it taken away from her as quickly and as suddenly as he appeared. There was a connection between them and pulling away from him felt both right and horribly wrong at the same time. She watched his face as she put space in between them, hating that he looked absolutely crushed, but she refused to give in to her treacherous heart that demanded she rush to him and apologize for pulling away in the first place. 

What was more upsetting was that as distressed as she was, as frustrated as she was with the whole damn situation, she did understand. She knew why he was leaving and logically, she knew she couldn’t fault him for it. He was the immediate heir to the throne of Durin, they had just reclaimed their homeland, and she didn’t have a clue as to what was expected of him. Nobody knew what awaited them at the mountain, he didn’t even know how his own kin faired against Smaug. _He’s in much the same position as I am, and he’s been comforting me this whole time._

All of these things she knew, but it didn’t take away from the hurt. She couldn’t help but feel like he was abandoning her. Was that fair? She didn’t even know at this point. Nothing made sense and she was just _so_ damn tired. 

“I will not make demands from you when you are needed elsewhere. I understand why you must go. I understand wanting to know how your kin faired, but I won’t pretend that I’m not hurt by your departure.” She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead, hating the ache that had come on all of a sudden. “If this is unfair of me, I apologize, but I can’t seem to see past this awful feeling in my chest. You just came into my life and I have a terrible feeling that as soon as you leave, something dreadful is going to happen... I fear I may never see you again.”

She had long since lost the battle to keep control of her emotions, and as she had the thought that this would be one of the last moments they shared, she let her tears flow freely. 

“I couldn’t take it if something happened to you,” she looked past his shoulder and saw the collection of Dwarves that were sitting around Tilda, making her laugh in her absence, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to any of you.” 

He had glanced back to see what had caught her stare and he smiled at his kin’s reaction to the little girl. He turned back around, regaining his serious composure for their discussion. He let go of her hand to reach inside his cloak and pulled out a knife. It was clearly well loved and frequently used, but even she couldn’t deny the beauty in the ornate design that was inlaid in its dark wooden handle. She put her hand out to let her fingers play along the design, feeling the strength of it beneath her fingertips. “It’s lovely, Fíli.”

He covered her hand with his own, “This is one of my favorite knives. Solid, sharp, and reliable. I _must_ go, Sigrid, but I won’t have anything happening to you in my absence if I can help it. Take it, please. I need to know you have something with you to keep yourself safe.” 

Her gaze never left his as she felt him attach the knife to her belt, tucked safely away in an equally beautiful scabbard. “Thank you, I’ll see it safely returned to you when you come back.” It was a challenge she was giving him, but she needed to hear it with her own ears that he did plan to come back.

He cupped her face yet again, seemingly unable to keep his hands to himself. “I know you’re afraid lass, but I will be back. Nothing in Middle-Earth could keep me from you. I know you’ve felt what is between us, Sigrid. You trust me, right?”

The sniffling that followed sounded pitiful, even to her own ears, “I trust you with my life, Fíli. And if you had asked me just a little while ago, I would have trusted you with my heart too.” 

He had been watching her intensely, and when she admitted that she did not trust him with her heart any longer, he appeared devastated. His jaw became clenched and he looked away, but not before she saw his eyes take on their own glossy appearance. 

She took a deep, winded breath as she placed her hand on his cheek, turning him back to look at her. “You have staked a claim on me in ways no one has before and while it is the most content my soul has ever been, my mind cannot rest. I so want to trust you with every fiber of my being, but so much has happened and I no longer know what is up and what is down. I would do anything for you, give my life for you if that is what needed to be done, but knowing that you are about to leave me, for who knows how long? I’m afraid you’re taking my heart with you and it hurts.” 

Her eyes closed as she was overcome with grief, feeling herself already mourning the loss of what she never really had. She needed to take care of her sister and remain strong, but the responsibility and weight of the situation she was faced with was overwhelming. 

She felt his fingers brushing lightly over her face, wiping away the rapidly falling tears. “Sigrid, lass, look at me.” She opened her eyes and was met with soulful amber that was beseeching her to not look away, “If there was any possible way for me to stay here with you I would. I know I’m saying this as I’m about to leave, but you are _the most_ important part of my life now. If I didn’t have an entire kingdom relying on me, you wouldn’t be rid of me so easily. You say that you have a hard time trusting me with your heart now, and lass… I won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt to hear. Those are words I never thought I’d hear my whole life and now, I know I’ll be hearing them echo in my head for the rest of my days.” 

He brought her head down to his shoulder and kissed her right on the temple. He didn’t pull away for quite some time, just seeming to want to hold her, when she felt his lips move to her ear. “I understand why you’re upset with me, with my company. But _please_ , do not doubt my feelings or intentions towards you. I _will_ be back, and I _will_ make you mine, just as I am already yours.” 

It was his declaration at the end, spoken in a gruff and matter of fact tone, that brought her tears to a screeching halt. _I’m being ridiculous._

She was still upset, still afraid that he might not make it back at all, but he had responsibilities to his people. She would not make him question what they had when, like her, it might be the only comfort he had to cling to at the moment. _Stop being selfish, you are not the only one experiencing hardship._ He began to separate their bodies, pulling back to give her space most likely, when she wrapped her arms around his neck and closed what little distance was between them. 

She kissed him once more, hard and unrelenting, unwilling to hide anything from him. The concern and frustration she felt was poured into her kiss and she never wanted it to end. He took her passion, accepted the ferocity behind her attack, and _dear lord she loved him for it._ He never took control from her, let her lead, but he gave it back to her in equal measure. She nipped his bottom lip, just as he had done to her earlier, and he opened to her assault without any hesitation. Before, she hadn’t known what to do but now, now she was ruled by her fear and lust and she just stopped thinking. She explored his mouth with care and stroked his tongue with hers, loving his taste and the groans he gave her. And when the tide turned and he began to expertly give her the same treatment back, she knew she’d never get enough of him. 

She broke the kiss finally, needing to gasp for air, and placed her forehead against his. “ _When_ you return Fíli, you can lay claim to all that I am.” Unable to keep the fierceness out of her voice, whether it was from fear or passion, she continued on, “Do not break that trust, Master Dwarf. I will be expecting you.” 

The smile he gave her in return just about melted her heart. He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against hers, “Of course, as my lady commands.”


	6. Another Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mirkwood Elves have arrived in Dale, how well do our protagonists cope with upcoming war?

Sigrid slowly climbed each step as she made her way up to the tower that her family had been given in the city of Dale. She was absolutely exhausted, her feet barely able to clear each stair, and could only focus on getting to her bedroll and closing her eyes. Hopefully, nobody else would need her for a few hours and she could turn in for the night. 

It had been a tense few days since Fíli and the rest of the Dwarves had left the remnants of Laketown behind. Her Da and Bain had finally shown up, walking up the beach that she had only vacated an hour earlier, and it had come to light that they had been the ones to defeat Smaug. The black arrow's aim had stayed true with her Da’s makeshift bow and it pierced deep into Smaug's chest, causing his body to quickly sink into the lake's abyss. 

The relief she felt at knowing her family was safe and together again was only rivaled by how gutted she felt as she had watched Fíli row away. Tilda had been tucked into her side, just as upset about their departure as she was, but for once she didn’t have any comforting words to offer. She was an absolute wreck and was sure she had been a sight to see. Her dress was ripped, hair wild and loose as it whipped in the breeze, tear tracks staining her soot smeared face with eyes as red as the dragon’s fire from the night before. She hadn't argued with Fíli though, didn’t beg him to stay or take her with them. Their goodbye had been tense, even before her Da and brother had come to watch them depart from nearby. 

No matter what he told her, she knew they both felt the impending doom that seemed to be creeping down into the valley, it enveloped all in its path. She knew he was trying to make her feel better and she wasn't upset, at that point what else could either of them say? He needed to continue on with his kin and she needed to stay there with her people. There was so much death and destruction, it would take years before they would fully recover. _But recover we will._

She hadn’t known at the time, but the responsibility she had felt for her townsfolk had grown tenfold since then. Her Da had been a respected member of the town but defeating Smaug had garnered more admiration than they had anticipated, and now her family was considered the new ruling household. _Princess Sigrid of Dale,_ she huffed out an annoyed breath as she climbed yet another step, _that sounds so incredibly silly._ Sufficed to say, she hadn’t grown accustomed to her new title just yet. 

She finally climbed up the last step and would have wept if she had had the energy for it. She made her way over to the corner of her room and sank down onto her bedroll, closing her eyes and thinking on their current predicament. The Elves of Mirkwood had arrived that morning, bringing with them cart loads of food that her people desperately needed. She had thought it a God send until she discovered that they were led by their King, Thranduil, and he had only come in order to retrieve jewels that contained actual starlight. Or some hogwash like that. She would bet that they were unimaginably lovely, but God, _what a pompous arse... I do love his Elk though._ She’d never seen one before and the urge to pet it upon first sight had been hard to control. _I will pet that animal before they leave._

After her Da had introduced her and her siblings, she had been about to ask their visitor why he had brought with him the might of his army when she had been dismissed from the tent. She had been told, in no uncertain terms, to take her siblings and see what help they could offer Dale that day. She knew her Da was trying to keep her from becoming too nosy, and so she had left, dragging Tilda and Bain with her. They had ended up cooking for and serving those who were still struggling to get settled and while she loved the work, she had been distracted all day. She hadn't wanted to argue in front of others earlier, especially now that they had an image to uphold, but she wasn’t going to let the matter just drop. Especially because she had seen her Da leaving Dale and heading towards Erebor just an hour earlier. _What is their plan?_

She had just been about to drift off to sleep when she heard the furious pounding of hooves down below. She shot out of bed, knowing in her heart that it was her Da returning from the mountain. _What news does he bring?_

She tried to maintain her composure as she shot down the stairs that she had just begrudgingly climbed not minutes before, but her appearance really was the last thing on her mind. Her every waking moment was occupied thinking about the last time she had seen Fíli. She had said everything that was on her mind and in her heart, but looking back she realized that it hadn’t mattered. _So stupid._ Her concerns and upset were valid, but they hadn’t been Fíli’s fault alone and she had treated him like they were. The guilt that surfaced every time she relived that moment threatened to engulf her completely and she knew that nothing would feel right again until she could see him for herself, safe and well. Apologize for how she had acted, for telling him _she didn’t trust him with her heart._

She hadn’t realized until she had had time to calm down that the words sounded so hurtful, so _whiny._ She was a full grown woman and Fíli hadn’t stolen her heart out from under her. She had given it to him, freely, and without any hesitation. Had it been a rough morning? _Bit of an understatement, but yes._ Had her entire life been upturned because of these Dwarves? _Again, yes._ But he had never given her cause to doubt him and she couldn't put into words just how ashamed she was of her behavior. _But he’ll come for me soon and I’ll apologize for being stubborn and emotional and_ beg _his forgiveness._

She continued her hurried pace outside and made her way through the streets as she continued to dwell and think on what she could say to Fíli when she saw him next. As she rounded the last corner to the entrance of the city, she saw the fire that had been lit inside the Elves tent was roaring high, illuminating everyone within. She recognized each face until she saw a figure near the back wall, cloaked all in grey. She wondered who it could be and how he had been able to get an audience, but quickly dismissed the thought as she noticed that everyone within looked tense and unsettled. Or, in Thranduil’s case, furious. _That does not bode well._

Her breathing had kicked up as she made it to the entrance of the tent, having a terrible feeling in the bottom of her stomach. 

“ – we cannot war against thirteen Dwarves, Thranduil. They wouldn’t stand a chance; it would be a massacre. And all over a few gems!” 

“We tried things your way, Bard. You gave Thorin ample opportunity to provide us with my gems as well as proper recompense for you and your people. No doubt the sickness has claimed his mind just as his forbearers before him.” He sounded utterly unaffected as he declared war on the Dwarves. “Don’t feel poorly about this decision. You have ensured that all other options were exhausted before they forced our hand.” 

“We do need the treasure within, but I have a hard time accepting there are no other options. I will fight if I mu –.” His sentence cut off abruptly, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. “Sigrid, you shouldn’t be here. I thought I told you to go with your siblings.”

She could only stare at the men in the tent, standing on opposite sides of the fire. One looked ready to battle as the other looked resigned to it. She didn’t look away from her father though, knowing that he had just agreed to war with the Dwarves holed up in Erebor. Her voice was quiet, unbelieving, “How could you do this? _Agree to this?_ You know it is wrong. If he has a sickness then he needs help, _not war!_ And he is not the only one in that mountain. You would condemn the others? After they kept us safe during the Orc attack? During Smaug’s attack?”

Her voice had steadily gotten louder and louder as her disbelief morphed into outrage. Her father’s face looked stricken at the reminder of all the Dwarves had done for them. 

_“Please don’t do this._ Let me speak with them. Let anyone else speak with them. There must be another way in and you can take your treasure that way, but don’t do this. I beg you, _please,_ find another way!” 

Her father looked to be considering her words, no doubt the anguish in her voice coming through plainly. But before he could voice his rebuttal, a smooth and uncaring timbre beat him to it.

“Child, I understand your aversion to violence, but there are times when it is appropriate. Thievery does not go unpunished, and I wouldn’t expect you to understand just how valuable those gems are to my people. Not to mention, “he turned his intense gaze directly on her, “what that treasure could do for yours. Do you not think that Thorin would see you all starve in order to see his people thriving once more? _Oh, child,_ he would watch on, uncaring, as you all wept over the loved ones you have lost.” 

She was frozen to her spot, caught in a stare that radiated intimidation and hate. She heard her father speaking, but never broke eye contact with the petty king. Her voice, barely above a whisper now, tried to continue her effort to dissuade them from attacking. “Thorin is sick. The others, they would never let that happen.” She knew all of the Dwarves were honorable, but Fíli would always do the right thing.

The chuckle he let out was devoid of all humor, when his eyes suddenly narrowed and he made his way over to her. “You sound so confident of that, child. Is there one in particular you feel overly confident in? I’d say the dark-haired archer, but I know he is currently preoccupied with a former subject of mine.” He continued to walk closer, his gait agonizingly slow, as if he had all the time in the world, his gaze practically piercing her soul. “It’s the golden-haired swordsman, isn’t it?” 

When she didn’t respond, he gave an audible tsk. “Child, I shouldn’t have to warn you, a Dwarf is not one to be trusted. They’ll promise you the world as if it is there’s to give, only to steal it back when you look away. What did he promise you? Gems? Jewels? Riches? I can assure you, he’ll never give them to you.” As he turned away, walking back to the fire, he murmured his final parting words. “Especially now. We war at dawn.” 

She turned her panicked gaze to her father, needing him to talk sense into the stubborn Elf, when another voice broke the tense silence. 

“Actually, that shouldn’t be necessary.” She whipped her head around, seeing the last person she expected. “Bilbo!”

She rushed forward and hugged him as tightly as she could. She had grown quite fond of him when they had been in her home, “What are you doing here? Are you well? How are the others?” She had only just managed to not ask about Fíli. She didn’t want her Da to overhear and confirm what Thranduil had just spoken. _Cross that bridge when we get there._

Bilbo hugged her back just as tightly, letting her go reluctantly but not relinquishing her hand. “I'm well, Sigrid. The others too. But..." he pulled back and looked around the room, his gaze settling on her Da, "The Thorin I know would never have gone back on his word. Would never leave your people to starve. He is no longer himself and I fear for his safety. For all their safety.” He seemed to struggle with his next words, “I have bargaining power. Offer this to him and I believe he will give you whatever it is you request.” 

She watched as he pulled a massive white gem out of his frock, a mesmerizing glow surrounding it. 

_“The Arkenstone.”_ The grey cloaked figure moved forward, a question in his gaze as he looked towards the Hobbit.

“Dwarves are stubborn and obstinate creatures. And frustrating and smelly with no sense of personal space. But they are also loyal and kind and would do anything they could to help someone in need. Those men in there are my friends, I won’t stand by and watch them get killed. Please, use this, get your treasure, but do not hurt my friends.”

She squeezed his hand before he turned and left with the cloaked figure. Thranduil and her father looked much more pleased, staring at the gem that would solve their problems. She couldn’t leave it to chance though, needing to hear their new course of action, “So, you won’t war with the Dwarves?”

Thranduil turned to look at her once more, his gaze slightly less hateful than it had been earlier. “Child, if this gets me my gems, my army and I will be leaving as soon as possible.” 

She stared back, happy with his response but couldn’t help but think, _Not soon enough._

* * *

“This is a ruse; the Arkenstone is safe within this mountain. How could they possibly have gotten it?”

 _“I did it. I gave it to them.”_ Fíli could only watch as he heard Bilbo confess to taking the Arkenstone and giving it to Bard. 

Fíli wasn’t even upset. Thorin had changed and he knew the sickness was taking hold. Getting that gem would only have cemented his uncle’s madness. For all he had claimed to be different, to not be like his Father or Grandfather, Fíli was sickened by what he saw. His uncle had been a great man and now he was reduced to this. A paranoid, greedy Dwarf who had been questioning the loyalty of his kin. 

He wasn't alone in thinking this either, all of the Dwarves in their company had begun to get restless. They had been stuck in the mountain for days, being forced to search day and night for the gem that was now being held by the army outside. _You couldn’t have come forward a little sooner, Bilbo?_

“Throw him from the rampart.” _What?_

When nobody moved to do Thorin’s bidding, his uncle decided that he would take care of it himself, grasping the Hobbit by his shirt and moving to toss him over the wall. Luckily Dwalin was close enough to restrain Thorin as Fíli ran forward to pull Bilbo away, getting him over to the rope he had used to escape. 

“Go Bilbo! Thorin is not himself, you need to leave.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” as he began to climb over the wall, he grasped onto Fíli’s shirt, making him stop suddenly. “Take care of yourself, Fíli. There’s a certain young lady down in Dale who would very much like you to make it out of this in one piece.” 

He felt like a fool, smiling in such dire circumstances, but then Bilbo spoke again and took his breath away. “I’m certain you’ve heard of her, _a Princess Sigrid of Dale?”_

“Princess? Of Dale? Sigrid? _Princess?”_

Bilbo began climbing down the ropes as Fíli floundered with what he had just heard. He heard a yell over the wall, obviously strained from the climb down. “Keep repeating yourself, Fíli. I’m sure it’s going to answer all of your questions.”

 _Save me from snarky Hobbits._ He turned away, walking back to Thorin, to do what, he wasn’t sure. _Watch his descent into madness, maybe,_ when he heard a distinctly familiar horn and turned towards the East. He saw their cousin Dain arrive with his army in tow and he rushed back to the others as they all celebrated their recent luck. They were stopped short though when another horn sounded from nearby and it sent a chill down his spine. _Orcs_.

The following minutes ticked by slowly as he watched in disbelief, the Iron Hill Dwarves stood alone against the might of the Orc army while his uncle did nothing. He had stared on impassively as they lined up for a certain death. As soon as the Mirkwood Elves had joined the fray though, Fíli was done waiting. The Elves were fighting a battle that was _theirs to fight._ As soon as the two had combined forces, they had begun to advance on the Orcs who had come forward in the valley below. But he could hear the faint screams from Dale and a cold and hollow feeling settled in his stomach. _Sigrid._

His uncle, their _King,_ had declared that they would not get involved. They were not to aid in this fight, and nothing had ever made him feel this helpless in his eighty-two years of life. They had started this journey, almost three years ago from half a world away, knowing what it might come to. They had accepted the consequences and risks, gladly signing their lives away for the quest. And now, with the repercussions of their actions coming forth, they were to hide and cower away while others died for them. An image of Sigrid flashed to the forefront of his mind; of the moment he had taken in her appearance as she had stood near that fallen tree in Laketown. 

Her throat had been bared to his view. He could see her flushed complexion along her cheekbones leading its way down her chest to her heaving breasts. Those dark eyes that could anchor him to his spot had been darker than he’d ever seen them and looked absolutely wild. Her long locks had been down for the first time and they were blowing in the wind, showing hints of golden red in the occasional ray of sunshine. He had followed her from a distance at first, worried she was nearing her breaking point, but at that moment she had looked untamed and savage. Nothing could break his woman and the pride he felt was only overpowered by the lust that had hit him as he stared into her feral gaze. His trousers had instantly become too tight and when she had called his name in a breathy whisper that he would have heard from leagues away, he had been lost.

He came back to the moment when he heard another distant scream. He was always ready to war with Orcs, but he now had someone who needed him, _I will not cower._

He looked around, wanting to make sure that nobody was paying him any mind as he quickly made his way to the rope that Bilbo had used earlier. He was already dressed to do battle due to the Elves presence; it was just a matter of slipping down the rope unnoticed. As he finally reached the top of the rampart, he had just swung one leg over the wall when he heard his brother yelling about needing to fight. He quickly brought his leg back down and ran to the stairs. He needed to join the battle, but he also needed to keep Thorin from killing his brother. His mind was lost to the gold within their walls and he knew that Kíli was struggling to remember that. 

His worry had been for nothing though, as he watched Thorin smile down at Kíli, agreeing that it was time they stopped cowering. _They were Dwarves._ The relief at seeing him return to his former self had the weight on his shoulders lessening by the moment. As Thorin took in the state of the entryway, blocked with stone, his voice was strong and full of mirth when he asked if they’d like to make an entrance. 

His own answering smile felt good, _“Sign me up.”_


	7. The Final Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli has climbed the mountain with Thorin, Kíli, and Dwalin to kill the leader of the Orc forces, Azog the Defiler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter of a chapter and I went over it again and again trying to get it just right. This is a violent chapter, it's not necessarily 'gory', but I'd like to give a bit of a heads up just in case. Hopefully you enjoy it!
> 
> For this chapter I also wanted to just mention a few things for reference. First, I utilized a very handy Black Speech translator for Azog! The internet is an amazing thing. Second, from the research I did on Khuzdul, I was able to find a few words that I wanted to incorporate into the story! In each chapter I'll put a reference up top for the words and their translation. 
> 
> Ghivâshelûh - my treasure of (all) treasures

“It’s a trap! We need to leave immediately. Thorin, we need to leave _now._ There is another Orc army coming down from the North and they are almost upon us.” 

Fíli could hear Bilbo’s voice carry through the maze of corridors he now walked through after splitting up with his brother. _Another army of Orcs?_

He began backtracking through the hallways, eager to find Kíli and leave this place. They had wanted to cut the head off the snake and finally be rid of Azog the Defiler, but they could not do that while battling an entire army of his disgusting brethren. 

All was quiet as he crept his way back through the abandoned tower, trying to find his way back to the bottom. The grey and chipped stone walls all looked the same though and he could feel himself becoming increasingly agitated as it felt like he was just going in circles. “Kíli!” His voice was wavering in between a whisper and a shout, afraid of drawing attention from whoever else occupied the building.

He was becoming more and more frantic to find his brother though, fearing what each second apart could mean for him. He was just about to give up on his silence and start shouting his brother’s name when he noticed a faint light ahead and felt the cold breeze against his face. He ran towards the opening, hoping to make his way down the rubble on the outside of the building and get away from this forsaken place. He walked out into the open and studied the snow covered stone as gusts of wind and ice continued to blow against him. _Easy enough, I can make it down that no problem._ As soon as he had the thought though, he felt a presence behind him. He didn’t move from his spot, but he knew without looking who it was that had joined him on the ledge. The cold had somehow become more frigid even as the wind seemed to die in a second, creating a perfectly still moment in time. _The Pale Orc, how perfect._

He could see Thorin, Bilbo and Dwalin across the way. They were on their own ledge, covered in snow and surrounded by the same crumbling rock. He could read the fear and sheer disbelief plainly on each of their faces. They needed to leave, there was nothing for them to do now with a horde of Orcs and Goblins closing in. He looked at his uncle, needing him to understand that he accepted his fate, “You should leave now, please.” He hadn’t raised his voice above a whisper, but he didn’t need to, it would carry across the frozen river. 

The soft sound of crunching snow alerted him that his enemy was moving. He turned around and gazed up at the object of his hatred standing right before him. A nightmare in the flesh. Were he a lesser Dwarf, he’d admit the Orc was intimidating. His legs were as thick as tree trunks, his arms were _unfortunately_ just as thick as his legs. His eyes though were the most unsettling, a void of pale emptiness that stared straight back at him. He found himself wanting to close them forever. 

He watched as the Pale Orc continued to circle him, appearing to size him up, and he reached over his shoulder and brandished the axe he had forged with his own hands. He wouldn’t look away from his target, but he took relief in the familiar feel and weight of it in his hands. Her shaft was sleek and strong, made from the wood of the oldest Oak, and her double-sided edges had been sharpened to a razor’s point. He grasped the handle, taking comfort in the old Dwarven runes that had been carved into the design, and knew that if the Pale Orc should be the one to end his life, he would be taking that other arm with him. _Maybe a leg as well. Might as well be optimistic,_ he thought with a grin. 

“Nalkroro do lat ukmile vok?” _Why do you smile, Dwarf?_

 _Why do I smile, indeed._ “The thought of taking your legs next and making you crawl amuses me, Orc.”

Fíli watched as the Orc shook his head at his taunting, “Liavavle vok, lat liwo meeav your mubarum. Paavheavic famipak enduk katu, ukavaravaumn wiavh lat. Lat liwo mat uklowly, mausan ukword ukavuck shal cheukav.” _Little Dwarf, you will meet your end. Your pathetic family ends here, starting with you. You will die slowly, my sword stuck in your chest._

He felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. _Do they need to give a speech every single time? Enough of this already._ “Quit stalling, Orc. Or are you scared of the small Dwarf?”

His taunting proved to be effective this time, the Orc clearly not appreciating Fíli’s lack of fear and terror and attacked head on with his full power behind him. 

They met with a clash of steel, as loud and devastating as rolling thunder, and Fíli felt the vibration rattle up his arm. As they pulled apart, Azog came back quickly but Fíli was able to deflect the sword coming towards his chest with his axe, effectively throwing him off balance. He knew the Orc was too tall for him to have a successful shot at his neck, but if he could just get a good cut to the inside of his thigh, then the Orc would lose function of his leg within seconds, crumbling towards the ground where Fíli could take his head. _Or at least that’s the idea… no time to think too closely on that now._

He tried to follow through with a swing towards his massive leg, putting as much of his strength into the swing as he could, but his blow was blocked just in time as Azog brought his blade down, a cruel smirk on his lips as he realized what his intention was. He twisted the scimitar attached to his arm, making Fíli move to the side to keep his axe on the hideous bastard. He shot forward as fast as he could and brought his weapon around his head, picking up speed for his next attack. As Azog went to block the blow yet again, Fíli brought out the dagger attached to his belt and sunk it deep into the Pale Orcs inner thigh. The bellow that followed left him with a feral satisfaction. _Fall you ugly bastard. Let us end this now._

He refused to hope though, not wanting to get distracted by the possibility, and only allowed himself to think on the immediate problem in front of him. If he could get another blow to the thigh or attack his knee, he would fall, he was sure of it. 

He watched as Azog slowly removed the dagger from his flesh; his countenance no longer one of satisfaction or indifference. The Orc matched his stare, never looking away as he whipped the blade away, and he was seething. _Well, that’s unsettling... but let’s go with it._ “Is this all the Pale Orc has to give? I was expecting so much more _Great Defiler_.” 

The Orc charged again with surprising strength and speed, _probably could have held back on the taunting just a bit_ , but he wanted him furious. Anger had a way of overriding thought and logic and Fíli was going to use whatever he could to his advantage. 

The next few minutes were a flurry of swings and blows that shook his arm and knocked the air from his lungs. He had held his own for as long as he could, but he knew he was flagging in their back and forth. Fíli was a strong fighter, would die on that hill, but the Orc had weight on his side, and he was using it. He could continue this for another few minutes, weakening his chances of victory, or he could make his move now and accept whatever fate held for him. _There really isn’t much of a choice, is there?_

He brought his axe down as hard he could, aiming for the Orcs left side. As he reached across his body to block it with the crook of his scimitar, Fíli took his chance and abandoned the axe, pulling out his favorite daggers. Forged to act as one, he pried them apart and leapt towards the Orc, imbedding both daggers directly into the Orc’s inner thighs, aiming for that crucial artery that would have him bleeding out in minutes. He didn’t know if he hit his mark, he was occupied with trying to jump back to avoid a fatal blow, when he realized that he had only been able to take one of the daggers with him. 

He had hoped that the stab wounds would buy him enough time to escape Azog’s clutches but knew it hadn’t been enough when he felt a sudden pain in his head from the Orc’s fist. He flew back, crashing into the rocks surrounding them, and knew his body was close to quitting. His mind was foggy, and he felt a warm, wet substance on his face. As soon as he tasted the bitter copper and smelled the rust in the air, he knew the Orc had drawn blood. How much, he wasn’t sure, but the pain in his head was shocking. He could feel wetness creeping down his back as well and knew that the rocks had only done more damage. 

Before he could rise to his feet, he yelled out as he felt the sharp stab of metal biting into his shoulder. He could feel the sword fighting its way through his flesh, gaining ground slowly and tearing through his muscle. His dagger fell from his grasp, no longer able to keep hold of the weapon as his other arm came up, futilely trying to push the Orc back. The gasp he let out was one of shock as he felt the second tip make its way into his body. He twisted, pushed, punched, did anything he could think of to get the blade out of his shoulder, but it was no use. He watched the Orc smile down at him, pure evil and satisfaction covering his disfigured face, and he felt the blade twist inside him. He let out a roar of his own as the pain and anger rose within him. He hated that he would meet his end this way, staring into ghostly eyes that held nothing but hatred, but he could hardly see straight; he couldn’t fight anymore. His body had quickly begun to lose its strength and he knew he was close to meeting his end. 

He vaguely registered the weapon being pulled from his body, the sound sickening as it slid back through the muscle and bone. He didn’t have long to dwell on it though when he was grabbed roughly by that same shoulder and dragged through the snow. He felt the pain lessen for a moment before the hand reappeared and clasped him by the back of the neck, lifting him high above the icy ledge he had been looking over just minutes before. As his vision cleared though, he was finally able to get a look at what Azog wanted him to see. He saw the fighting below in the valley, watched as unidentifiable bodies continued to clash in what appeared to be a losing battle. _How long could they keep going?_

His mind was still foggy, he still couldn’t think straight, but as he looked up, he was able to find peace for just a moment where the world went quiet and the pain fell away. He could make out the snow-capped mountains in the distance, a deep purple with pristine and unmarred white covering them in a blanket of perfection. The clouds moved swiftly throughout the sky, showering the world below with rain and the ever-changing lighting. White would change to grey, grey would shimmer to blue, and then out of nowhere there would be a ray of sunshine. 

In his final moments, as he watched the ever-changing scenery, he closed his eyes and could practically feel the softest of strokes upon his face. The ghost of breath fanning his lips before brushing ever so gently against them, a hint of sage and rainfall teasing his senses. _Sigrid, my Ghivâshelûh, I love you lass. Until my dying breath you will be mine, I wish I had told you._

He suddenly felt warm and putrid breath on the side of his face, a grumble coming from his captor. 

“Whaav iuk avhiuk, vok? Luk avhiuk gith lat had? Nalkren diukappoinavaumn. Lat leav avhem gith poshat. Kulknej liwo drepa avhem gith.” _What is this, Dwarf? Is this all you had? How disappointing. You know you let them all down. They will all die._

He turned Fíli back towards him, “Agh your gru liwo mat wiavh avhem. Jiak saib ukmell lav-li par lat. Jiak liwo lav-li.” _And your woman will die with them. I can smell her on you. I will look for her._

Fíli couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he looked on in horror as the Pale Orc leaned in again, making a big point of sniffing him as a deranged smile began to form. “Bur fleukh? Theausan baj avhe beukav eaavaumn um lat wonderaumn.” _Man flesh? They make the best eating if you were wondering._

 _“NO!”_ He didn’t know where the strength came from, but he unsheathed the last dagger he had hidden on his body and plunged it directly into one of the Orc’s sickly eyes. He felt blood splash his face before he was once again thrown back against the rocks. He could hear the yell of other Orcs, most likely coming in to finish him off, when he looked up to watch Azog stumble over to him, dagger still firmly within his skull. 

As he continued to stagger closer and closer to his position on the ground, he braced himself for the final blow when he watched the Orc’s face twist in anger. A body came into view, jumping from the rocks above him, and it launched directly into Azog’s, a sword going straight through the monster's chest. He watched as Azog slowly crumbled to the ground, landing hard on his knees, and time seemed to stop again but for an entirely different reason. He watched in disbelief as Kíli and Dwalin erupted from the rock behind him and fought against the remaining enemies nearby. 

_Am I hallucinating?_ He wanted to continue to watch, to aid his kin in this fight, but he couldn’t do anything before his vision began to fade into blackness. He fought it for as long as he could, but as soon as he smelled the impending rain and felt nimble fingers caress his face, he embraced oblivion. _I’m coming, Sweetheart._


	8. Hellfire and Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against all odds, Fíli and the rest of his company have survived the fight against the Pale Orc, but they didn't leave unscathed. Will Sigrid be able to save him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amrâlimê - My love

_His world was burning._

There was no other explanation. He could feel the fire eating away at his body, crawling through his veins at a pace he couldn’t decide was either excruciatingly slow or deliriously fast. He tried opening his eyes, but he saw nothing but a blinding light, the pain too great to withstand for very long. Nothing eased the pain in his shoulder and his head felt like it was being crushed. And the heat, _my god the heat_ , it never let up. He could hear voices talking all around him, never ceasing, and the heat always accompanied them. He couldn’t identify who spoke and after what felt like ages he stopped trying. The scorching within his blood never ceased and he couldn’t focus on anything but that. A heavy weight was always upon him, heating his body even further, and he wished for death. _Prayed for death to take him._ He would join his kin in the halls that Aulë had made for them and the pain would finally cease. He would not accept death blindly though, and so until then, he would continue his fight. He lashed out again, ridding himself of the heat that was building up.

_“You won’t take me without a fight!”_ Just as he felt a small ounce of satisfaction, he felt the weight begin to cover his body once more. As he tried to lash out again, he felt himself being held down by unseen enemies. His struggle became all consuming, quickly draining his energy, but he wouldn’t dare cower in the face of danger now.

_“Leave us!”_

They were the first words he had understood since the fires in his blood had woken him. He didn’t know who it was that spoke, but he knew that voice, knew that he should know the face that accompanied it. There were more hushed whispers and the manacles around his wrists abruptly released him. 

He tried again to rid himself of the excess heat that was pressing down on him when gentle hands clasped his and began to rub circles into his palms. 

_“Please, Amrâlimê, stop fighting me. This will help.”_ It was that same voice that ordered the others to leave them be. That spoke to him in his native tongue. It was soft and caring, sounding like a caress with a pleasant lilt to her voice. _Who is she?_

He knew the pain would be great, but there was nothing that could stop him from discovering who had spoken. 

As he opened his eyes, he was faced with what could only be an angel. Her face was shrouded in darkness but the ethereal presence about her was mesmerizing. Her hair was dark with fiery golden strands that shone in the night. She was illuminated by what could have only been the holy light of Aulë shining down on them, for he was sure that she had been divinely created by his maker. 

_“Please, you must keep this on. You’re sick but I’m here to make you better. I won’t leave you; you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you’re okay. Will you drink this?”_

She could have asked him for anything, and he would have given it to her. He fought to keep his eyes open, needing just one more moment with this goddess, when he felt something press against his lips. He opened his mouth as much as he was able and felt warm liquid pour down his throat. He began coughing it up, not able to stomach anything, when he felt her cool hand slip behind his neck lifting him up ever so slightly. The gentle brush of her thumb against his pulse caused him to relax just enough for her to coax him to take the liquid in his mouth again. He continued to watch her, finally able to make out the most enticing brown eyes he had ever seen. They were so full of life as they appeared to glimmer above him, their warmth equivalent to an everlasting hearth that he wanted to come home to everyday. 

_“You’re doing so well, Amrâlimê, please just a little more. That’s it, just another sip.”_

He choked back the liquid, needing to give her what she asked for, when she finally took it away and he collapsed back down. He soaked up her praise as he tried to ignore the pain, wanting to look upon her for as long as she was in his presence. 

_“Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”_ His voice was hoarse, coming out scratchy and so faint he wasn’t sure she heard him. He would plead if he had to though, she couldn’t abandon him. 

_“Shhh, don’t speak. I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here when you awaken. You’ll never be alone again.”_

Her words soothed the fear he had been holding onto and he finally allowed himself to relax. His eyes were so tired, feeling heavier than he could remember, and he no longer fought them to stay open.

_“That’s it Amrâlimê, I’ll never let anything happen to you again.”_

He faded into oblivion once again with the sweetest dreams awaiting him. 

* * *

Fíli had come down from the mountain three days ago, carted into the city by Thorin, Dwalin, Kíli and Bilbo. When Sigrid first caught sight of their descent, she had been ecstatic, ready to rush to Fíli and apologize for her earlier upset, when she slowly realized that she did not see him anywhere. Her Da had begun speaking to her but she couldn’t hear a word he was saying, so focused on the Dwarves that were coming towards Dale. She had run through the throng of people in the city streets, going as fast as she possibly could to meet them, only to discover that Fíli had been seriously injured. He had gashes, bruising and swelling all over his face and head with a terrible stab wound to his shoulder. They had carried him to his own tent that had been set up in preparation for their arrival and he was quickly stripped of his armor and tunic. She dreaded what she might find but needed to see what was wrong and what she needed to fix. 

As they removed his tunic, it was the first time she had seen his bare chest and the only thing she could focus on was how broken his body was. He was covered in bruises, with dried blood coating his entire torso and back. His beautiful golden hair had been red and brown, matted together and stuck to his skin. She didn’t know the extent of the damage he had sustained, but she worked as quickly as she could to clean the wounds and she prayed to whoever would listen that an infection wouldn’t take hold. When he had woken up later that night though, that was exactly what had happened. He had been delirious, murmuring something about fire and angels, about heat that was coursing through his veins. Thorin had consistently tried to get her out of the tent, thought that Fíli was causing her more distress than necessary, but she had refused to leave. He needed her and she would not abandon him. Thorin had quickly given up trying to convince her to let someone else tend to his wounds though and so she felt safe in leaving for quick bursts to fetch supplies. 

She had only been gone for a moment on that first day, needing to get more water so that she could continue to wash the blood out of his hair and tend to his head injuries, only to discover upon her return that chaos had erupted throughout the tent. Thorin and Kíli had been restraining Fíli to the bed as he fought against the blanket and their holds. She had snapped, telling everyone to leave the tent and after some pleading on her part, they had all gone. He had calmed down almost immediately and what followed had broken her heart. It was the first time she had talked to him since they had parted ways at the lake and seeing him broken, bloody, and delirious before her was nerve-wracking. This was not the man who had kept her safe during the Orc attack on her home nor the man who had held her through the night as her town was being destroyed. 

This was the man who needed _her_ now, and she would not fail him. She had murmured whatever she could think of that would comfort him, even going so far as to use his native tongue. Kíli had told her what Amrâlimê meant in Khuzdul. He had also told her that their language was sacred to Dwarves and that they typically did not share it with outsiders. She had been thrilled to learn something of their people, of Fíli, that not many knew. 

She had tried everything she knew of to lower his fever and consulted with Oin just in case there was something in particular to be done for Dwarves. She would have asked for Tauriel, but nobody knew where she had gone off too. _Poor Kíli._

He was sick with worry over where she was and if she was okay. Sigrid was also concerned about her absence, but with Fíli needing her constant attention, she didn't let her mind wander. She knew that Elf could fight and hoped she would turn up soon. She couldn’t entertain any alternatives, many cared for Tauriel, herself included. 

She had finally finished prepping Fíli's next set of bandages when she had that thought and made her way back over to his bed, sitting as closely as she could. She slowly closed her eyes, treating it as an indulgence and a little vacation. She had been fighting his fever for three days now without any sleep, constantly by his side, and his fever hadn’t broken yet. The sun had sunk below the horizon some time ago, bathing their world in darkness and candlelight that chased away the chill of the early morning of the fourth day. She found herself once again cradling his hand that was closest to her. Thankfully, he was sleeping fitfully now, no doubt as a result of the Athelas tea she had been encouraging him to drink when he could keep it down. 

She had been comforting him when he roused from his sleep, encouraging him to drink some tea, cleaning and redressing his wounds, and she would murmur whatever comforts she could think of when he needed to hear her speak. _When he was afraid that he was all alone._

She never voiced her concern, refusing to allow any other outcome but his full recovery, but she was worried. Downright terrified. His fever wasn’t breaking and if this continued much longer, she didn’t know what it would do to his mind. A person could only take so much be them Man, Dwarf or Elf. 

She continued to draw small circles on the back of the hand she was holding, as much for her comfort as for his, when she felt the first tear escape. She was so tired of the continuous struggle. When one thing seemed to be going right, something else went entirely too wrong in the blink of an eye. She needed him to get better, to wake up and tell her it would all be okay and that she could stop fighting, but he remained in his fevered prison. The silent tears continued to fall as she felt her body shaking with the effort to be quiet. She couldn’t leave him, but she would be _damned_ if she was the reason he woke up when he so desperately needed rest. She curled over herself, leaning her head against the bed where she came to rest near his hip, feeling the tears coming faster now. 

She didn’t have the energy to move, nor did she want to. So that is exactly where she stayed, holding his hand as she noiselessly wept, when sleep finally claimed her. 

* * *

Fíli opened his eyes slowly, his mind in a fog and his body drenched in sweat and aching everywhere. He looked around, only seeing that he was inside of a dark tent, illuminated by a few candles. _Damn, what have I gotten myself into now?_

He tried to lift his head when he felt the immediate pain behind his eyes, sharp and excruciating. He was about to lift his arms when he was stopped abruptly by his muscles protesting the disturbance. _Well, that’s probably not good._ He flexed his feet, wiggling his toes, realizing that they didn’t hurt in the least. _There we go! Not so bad after all it seems. I’ll be up in no time._

He went to flex his hands to see if he could get the same results from his fingers when he finally realized he was holding something. He looked down and was confused for a moment when he could only see a mass of brown hair obscuring someone’s face. With his other hand, he smoothed the hair back as slowly as he could manage, not wanting to wake them. He continued like this for some time, utterly impressed with just how much hair this person had, when the most beautiful face was at last revealed to him. _Sigrid._

All at once the memories came flooding back. The fight with Azog, the Pale Orc’s threat to find his woman, thinking he was going to die and then sinking the blade into the beast’s pale eye. He could have sworn he had felt Sigrid’s petal soft lips on his as he awaited his death, finding some comfort in the delusions of his dying mind. 

He stroked her hair, brushing it over her shoulder, loving how silky smooth it felt. He worked his fingers lower and was unable to resist caressing his thumb over her lips, wanting to feel their softness himself this time, when he took in the rest of her appearance. While her lips were utter perfection, her eyes were swollen; the skin surrounding them red and blotchy with dark circles underneath. _My poor lass. Has she not been sleeping? How long has she been watching over me?_

He brought his thumb to her cheek, slowly caressing it, “Oh, Sweetheart…”

Her eyes opened immediately, as if she had been awaiting the slightest sound of an impending battle to spring into action. 

“Fíli?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet, her beautiful doe brown eyes narrowed in confusion, her hand coming up to cradle the back of his hand that was currently cupping her face. She looked muddled for just a moment, seeming to try and come to terms with what she saw before her, when her eyes widened and she shouted, _“Fíli!”_

He winced at the sound but wouldn’t have traded it for anything, _she was here._ He saw her eyes begin to shimmer and shed heavy tears as she watched him and then spent the next few minutes fussing over him and apologizing for what she had said the day they had parted. _As if she needs to apologize,_ which is precisely what he told her. He could tell she was frantic though; she asked how he was feeling, if there was anything that she could get him, what could she do to make him more comfortable… and he loved every second of it. He wanted to soak up her attention and bask in it like the deranged Dwarf that he apparently was. _Never telling Kíli._

She had just stood up to run and get him something to drink when he grabbed onto her hand again to pull her back to his side. “Sigrid, Sweetheart. I promise I’m fine.” 

She responded by giving him a look that said he was out of his mind. _Maybe that’s a bit of a falsehood, let’s tame it down just a bit._ He began to adjust himself in the bed, trying to make a little more room for her against his side.

“What I meant to say, is that I’ll be fine if you stay with me. Let me hold you, please.” He started tugging her down onto the bed with him when she began to put up some resistance. “Fíli please, you’re injured. You were injured _so badly._ I can’t risk worsening anything or elongating your recovery.” _Oh, she was sweet._

“All right Sweetheart, I’ll stop asking.” She looked relieved when he appeared to have given up so easily, the resistance in her body giving way all together. Which is when he tugged on her hand and she came toppling down onto his bed beside him. Was it a bastard thing to do? _Possibly._ Was it worth it? _Most definitely._

She began to twist in the bed, trying to get out of it without touching him at all, which he couldn’t allow. He snaked his arm around her waist and brought her down onto his good shoulder. “Sweetheart, I hate to be this person, but if you keep thrashing about, you’re likely to do some damage to me. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I was injured, and I do need some time to recover.” 

She paused in her attempts to escape his clutches and looked down at him. He was worried he had pushed too hard, reminding her of his injuries, when she gave him a teary smile. “You _asinine,_ Dwarf.”

He let out a gusty laugh, loving how witty she was. He brought his hand to the nape of her neck and brought her down to meet him in a gentle kiss, “Yes, yes, I know. But luckily there are worse things out there than foolish, silly Dwarves, correct?” She laughed against his mouth as they continued on and he could have stayed in that moment forever. Lying injured in bed was a smile price to pay to get his woman to laugh against his lips as he kissed her. Their pace wasn’t fast, the kisses sweet and gentle as they began learning each other over again, and it was absolutely perfect. 

They stayed that way for several minutes before Sigrid was finally able to pull away and get him something to drink. He had only allowed it on the condition that she come back to bed with him as soon as she returned. He was thankful that she didn’t fight him on it. As much as he hated it, his body was feeling the effects of battle and he knew sleep would reclaim him soon. He wasn’t sure of the time, but it looked like they still had an hour or two before dawn and he wanted to spend the peaceful morning hours holding Sigrid, his lass. _His Princess of Dale._

He smiled to himself as she rejoined him in bed, curling against him underneath the covers. She was still cautious due to his injuries, but he could see how much she looked forward to practically plastering herself to his side if her hurry was any indication. She was quickly getting comfortable, her breath warming his neck as she continued to nuzzle even closer, her hand over his chest. Her entire body tensed though as her hand drifted over the bandages on his shoulder. _Dammit._

She pulled back and looked somberly down at his damaged body, when all of a sudden, she leaned over and pressed a single, chaste kiss to his chest. _Directly over his heart._ She went back to cuddling into his side, her hand now pressed possessively over where she had kissed. His heart began beating erratically, knowing that she had just claimed it and him. Mind, body, and soul. He wrapped his arms around her and drifted off to sleep with the enticing scent of sage and rainfall following him into his dreams.


End file.
